The Peoples of Middle Earth Take On Les Misérables
by Simbelmyne Nienor
Summary: Exactly what it sounds like. Eru Ilúvatar was feeling mischievous and decided to manipulate the people he created into performing a hit musical. Gollum gets a leading role! Now playing: the Confrontation!
1. Mysterious Yet Important Visitors

**So, this is my first full-length story. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for a few barricade pins, an Enjolras jacket, and a red revolutionary flag. **

* * *

Life in Middle-Earth was perfectly normal. Sauron has just been defeated, Frodo had just gotten a finger bitten off, and Aragorn was just crowned king. Life was good. Until a random sunny day, when all Hell was let loose.

* * *

At the Grey Havens...

Elrond, Galadriel, Frodo, Gandalf, and all of those who were to cross the sea were waiting. Apparently, the captain had a mysterious visitor. A very important visitor. Who was still mysterious. Anyway, Elrond knew it was getting late when Galadriel stopped tapping her foot and started pacing while screaming at a piece of dock. Frodo grew so restless he began twiddling his fingers, but after he remembered he had only nine, he stormed off, cursing Gollum. Bilbo followed him and both started spontaneously Viennese waltzing.

After about six more hours of this, the captain of the boat stepped off of the ship and walked towards those waiting.

"The mysterious yet important visitor wishes to speak with you," the captain said very solemnly. The captain moved aside, letting the mysterious visitor walk down the gangplank.

The mysterious yet important visitor stepped right in front of Galadriel and then cast off his hood. There was a collective intake of breaths when all present recognized who he was.

* * *

In wherever all of the dead go that aren't Elves...

Théoden and his son, Théodred, were waiting in a giant stone corridor. No one knew what for, after all, they had been dead for the past couple of years. Out of the corner of his eye, Théodred spotted Gollum dancing around in circles holding up a quarter he found somewhere.

"Precious! My precious!" Gollum rasped, cradling the quarter like a baby. This odd sight was made even more comical when a furious Boromir came storming in from one of the many waiting rooms connected to the hall.

Boromir grabbed the quarter out of Gollum's slimy clutches. "Mine!" Boromir hissed, "that is the Hawaii quarter, the only one I don't have in my collection!"

Gollum started wailing. That was his stand-in Precious because of those stupid hobbitses. Just then, a Denethor came bursting in on the room.

"Come, my son," he said, "we must not steal items from unstable people."

"Father, would Gollum count as a person?" Boromir asked.

Gollum heard this and immediately launched himself at Boromir's face. Just as he left the ground, there was a knock on the door. A hooded figure stepped in.

There was a collective gasp as everyone recognized who he was.

* * *

At Éomer's wedding to Lothíriel of Dol Amroth...

Éomer King was mostly happy. He was king. He finally found a woman that could put up with him for the rest of his life. Éowyn finally seemed happy with Faramir, and Aragorn and Arwen his queen and wife were still stealing the attention, as always. The happiness left him as the alcohol went to his head. _Why do Aragorn and Arwen get more attention than Lothíriel and me, _Éomer thought, _it is my wedding after all_. He mumbled incoherently about life and its unfairness, and then put his head down on the table, trying to hide in plain sight.

Lothíriel walked over. The hiding didn't work.

"Come, husband, you can't be tired already. There are still two hours left before we can retire," she coaxed. Éomer just groaned, despite how much he liked being called "husband." How come everyone else was having more fun than he was? After all, it was his wedding day. He just wanted to sleep.

"Brother," Éomer heard a voice call. Oh no, he thought, now Éowyn's coming. "Get up brother. Have a little fun."

Éomer let himself be dragged into the center of the room by the only two woman in his life. _Must look kingly, _he thought to himself, _kings don't have the grace of a drunk Oliphaunt_. Just as he steeled himself to not fall over dancing in front of the people he ruled over, the doors were flung open. A hooded figure sauntered in. When the hood was cast off, there was a collective intake of breaths as everyone recognized who it was.

* * *

Back at the Grey Havens...

Elrond was the first to recognize the Mysterious Yet Important Visitor.

"Glorfindel," he breathed.

Glorfindel smiled. "Mae govannen, my friend. I bring a letter addressed to you all."

And so he began reading: "Fondest greetings to Galadriel, Elrond, Gandalf, Frodo, Bilbo, and various elves..."

* * *

The place where non-Elves go when they die...

The gasps that meant that the dead people recognized the cloaked figure quickly died down. Everyone looked around in confusion. Seeing their blank stares and gaping mouths, the cloaked figure sighed in exasperation.

"I am Legolas' father, Thranduil."

Nothing.

"I am an Elf King," he tried again

Everyone nodded in comprehension. The visitor was a random elf! They looked at him expectantly.

He addressed them: "Dearest greetings to Théoden, Théodred, Boromir, Denethor, apparently Saruman who just decided to walk in here, and Gríma Wormtongue who decided to follow him,"

* * *

At the Golden Hall of Meduseld...

Aragorn shouted the cloaked visitor's name first.

"Haldir!"

No one else in the room recognized the elf of Lórien. Especially not the Helm's Deep veterans.

"Haldir of Lórien?" Aragorn tried again. Faintly remembering, the hobbits, Gimli, and Legolas nodded. A tense silence settled over the room. The crowd all looked expectantly at Haldir.

Awkwardly fumbling through his cloak pockets, Haldir drew out a letter. Clearing his throat, he began reading.

"Hello Aragorn, Arwen, Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Imrahil, Gimli, Sam, Éowyn, Faramir, Lothíriel, and Éomer, congratulations on the wedding, by the way..."

* * *

"Eru Ilúvatar has decided to put on a production of a famous musical with you all as the cast," the three messengers all took deep breaths at the same time and continued.

"He hopes you do not have any problems with Les Misérables."

* * *

**If anyone cares about this story, I'll update if you review. **


	2. Random Elves Sing A Song

**I GOT REVIEWS! My life is now complete. Again, if anyone cares, I won't update regularly over the summer. I have a very short attention span. If you are still reading this, I update whenever I feel like it, but probably at least once a week.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for the extended edition of the Lord of the Rings movies and a cracked iPod with The Lord of the Rings Complete Recordings soundtrack. **

* * *

At Éomer's interrupted wedding...

"Come!" Haldir shouted,"we must go to the Opera Populaire. Eru wants to see you all!"

And so all living non-Elves went to Paris. Somehow. Haldir blindfolded them so they couldn't see. Let's just assume they teleported.

* * *

At the Grey Havens...

Glorfindel beckoned everyone to follow him.

"Come, we must teleport to the Opera Populaire," the golden-haired resurrected elf called when the group he was supposed to collect just stood where they were, unsure of themselves.

"Erm," Galadriel piped up, raising her hand, "what is this teleporting you speak of?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "I do not know."

Shrugging, Galadriel followed him. Everyone else reluctantly followed.

* * *

The halls of all of the dead who are not Elves...

The random elf named Thranduil cleared his throat to get everyone's attention after they zoned out.

"Um, please follow me to the...um...Opera Populaire!" he finished.

Boromir scoffed, "Why should we follow you? You are just a random elf."

Thranduil's left eye twitched menacingly.

"You will follow me because I have an entire set of all 51 quarters, including Puerto Rico waiting for you there, at the Opera."

Like a small child who just received word of candy nearby, Boromir dashed out of the room. Denethor, being Boromir's father, ran after him. Gollum, looking for more Preciouses, dashed out after the two Gondorians. Hàma, who mysteriously appeared, even though he was in the right place for the dead, tapped Théoden and Théodred on their shoulders.

"Come, my lords, to the Opera, I think he called it," Hàma said. And so the dead of Rohan followed.

* * *

At the Opera Populaire...

Eru Ilúvatar gracefully walked down the steps of the majestic building. Everyone who teleported here gasped. He was wearing a porcelain half-mask.

Ilúvatar cleared his throat.

"Please excuse the mask. I am just getting in character. Now, please follow me inside so you can meet your director for the day. He will be directing the first act of this show."

Everyone ran inside to see who the mystery director was. Everyone except the three messengers. Haldir, Glorfindel, and Thranduil all made motions to leave the Opera Populaire, but before they could escape, a hand grabbed them by their collars and yanked them back up the stairs all at once.

"No, you elves," Eru said, smiling, "you are to be in this show, too."

Glorfindel gulped.

* * *

All of the peoples of Middle Earth were now in the grand lobby of the Opera waiting for the mysterious director. After several minutes of waiting, a man with curly blond hair and a red jacket came flying down the stairs, brandishing a blood-red flag and out of breath.

"Bonjour," he panted, "my name is Enjolras. No first name. I am to be your director for the first act of this play."

The crowd in front of this young revolutionary just stared at him.

"Follow me," he said curtly.

Wide-eyed, the crowd followed him onto the stage.

"Please sit in the audience's seats while I prepare the music."

The crowd sat down.

Enjolras scanned the audience. Spotting two people he thought would work for the first song of the production, he called then up.

"You! There! And there! Please step up onto the stage and sing these lines when the music comes on. The rest if you, if I call you up, you will receive a part. That part will be yours for the rest of the show. Now," he paused, "I need some extras. The man in the mask said something about Elves? Can all Elves please raise their hands?" Several hundred hands went up. "Good," Enjolras nodded, "now, who wants a solo?" All hands went down. Sighing, Enjolras picked five random Elves.

Those said Elves trudged onto the stage, wanting to curl up and disappear.

Enjolras smiled. "Good, now tell me. What are your names?"

"Glorfindel."

"Elladan."

"Elrohir."

"Haldir."

"Thranduil the original Random Elf."

Enjolras just nodded and turned to the two that he had originally called up.

"You," he gestured to the taller one, "are going to be Jean Valjean, who is a convict who is about to break his parole and be on the run from Javert for the next twenty-odd years. You," this time pointing at the smaller of the two, "will be Javert, the overseer of where the convicts are being kept. You want to always find Valjean and bring him back. I need more Elves! Please just be background singers." And so all of the Elves except for Celeborn and Galadriel went onstage. The Lord and Lady flat-out refused to take part in this nonsense.

Enjolras stepped back, looking very pleased with himself. He then pointed to the five Elves onstage.

"You five are the convicts. You are stuck where you are for the rest of your life. Now," Enjolras handed out lyric sheets, "Javert, please go offstage. Cue Prologue!"

And so the lights went dim as booming music began.

* * *

Elrond did not want to be this "Valjean" character. _A convict is not a suitable character for me to play,_ he thought, _oh well, wouldn't want to anger that boy holding the flag_.

The music began coming from the pitch-black stage. _Here goes_, Elrond thought.

* * *

"Look down, look down, don't look him in the eye, look down, look down, you're here until you die," all of the unfortunate Elves sang. They did not even have to act miserable. They already were, being forced to sing.

Elladan took up the next verse.

"The sun is strong, it's hot as Hell below."

Then Gandalf raised his hand from the audience.

"Erm, sir, Enjolras, what is Hell?"

Eru Ilúvatar supplied the answer, "It is like Mordor for the dead."

Everyone present nodded in comprehension.

Slightly annoyed, Enjolras rewound the music to where Elladan started singing.

"Again, Elladan," Enjolras prompted.

Elladan reluctantly began singing again.

"The sun is strong, it's hot as Hell below."

The rest of the Elves as convicts burst in, "look down, look down, there's twenty years to go."

Elladan broke character and spoke up. Enjolras slammed the pause button on the CD player and scowled.

"What?" he questioned angrily.

"Um, twenty years is not really a long time for Elves. That is like an hour to us," Elladan replied.

Enjolras lost his cool. "Everybody here listen; do not question the lyrics! Just sing them! For the love of Patria!"

The music started back up again. Glorfindel, a bit intimidated by Enjolras started off his verse very quietly.

"I've done no wrong, sweet Jesus hear my prayer."

His unformed question was silenced by Enjolras' death glare.

Worriedly, the rest of the Elves kept singing.

"Look down, look down, sweet Jesus doesn't care."

Haldir stepped up next.

"I know she'll wait, I know that she'll be true."

Cue other Elves:

"Look down, look down, they've all forgotten you."

Thranduil was the next one.

"When I get free, you won't see me, 'ere for dust!"

"Look down, look down, don't look 'em in the eye," the other random Elves finished.

Elrohir, Elladan's twin brother, finished the convicts' solos.

"How long, oh Lord, before you let me die?"

The random elves chorused mournfully, "look down, look down, you'll always be a slave. Look down, look down, look down, you're standing in your grave!"

Then the singers went silent. The music continued on until a very irritated Enjolras pressed pause.

"Javert?" Enjolras yelled into the wings, "Javert, it's you now!"

Everyone's eyes opened wide when Gollum came onto the stage in a police uniform.

Enjolras gestured to the microphone. "Come on Javert, sing now."

Gollum sneered at the revolutionary, who remained unfazed.

"Nasssty boy in red bossing us around. No, Precious, he must not do that," Gollum muttered to himself, and then crawled to where Enjolras was standing. Enjolras' stoic expression quickly turned to one of panic as Gollum grabbed Enjolras' jacket and yanked it off of the boy.

A now-red jacket-wearing Gollum began to prance around the stage singing, "so bright, so beautiful! Our precious!" Enjolras could not take this anymore, so he launched himself at Gollum while screaming, "my jacketses!"

That would have been completely normal in Middle Earth, if it hadn't been Enjolras who said it.

The curtain went down while the two fighting over the jacket resolved their differences.

* * *

Two hours later...

A slightly disheveled Enjolras, who was wearing the slightly disheveled red jacket, came back on stage.

He clapped his hands near the mic and woke everyone who was sleeping back up.

"We shall continue the Prologue. Cue music!" he shouted. The music came back on. Gollum as Javert walked onto the stage and began singing.

"Now bring us prisoner two-four-sixes-oh-one. Your time is up and your parole's begun. You know what that means!"

Elrond wearily looked at Gollum and started to sing, "yes, it means I'm free!"

"No!" Gollum hissed,"it means you gets your yellow ticket of leave. You are a thief!"

Elrond interrupted, "I stole a loaf of bread!"

Gollum growled back, "you robbed a houses!"

"I broke a windowpane. My sister's child was close to death. We were starving."

"You'll starve again. Unless you learn the meaning of the law," Gollum croaked.

Elrond rolled his eyes, "I know the meaning of those nineteen years, a slave of the law."

Gollum sang, "Five years, for what you did. The rest because you tried to run. Yesss, two-four-sixes-oh-one."

"My name is Jean Valjean."

"And we are Javert!" Gollum responded, "do not forget our name. Do not forget us, two-four-sixes-oh-one!"

Elrond left the stage while the random Elves kept on singing.

"Look down, look down, you'll always be a slave. Look down, look down, you're standing in your grave."

The music and lights faded. Enjolras and Eru Ilúvatar both breathed sighs of relief. The first song was over. Then Enjolras groaned after doing a mental count. There were still 49 songs to go.

The revolutionary stood on a chair and addressed the audience and all who sang, "good work today. Now go to the apartments and dormitories backstage. I will see you tomorrow."

And so Enjolras ran offstage and out of the Opera Populaire. He then proceeded to join Grantaire and the rest of Ses Amis in drinking the night away.

* * *

**So, here's the next chapter. Constructive criticism and suggestions are welcome. If you review this chapter, I'll start writing the next one! (Hint hint.)**


	3. Elrond panics and Éomer hides, again

**Thank you to all who reviewed.**** Sorry for the wait. This isn't up to par, but I wanted to update and give you something.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any song lyrics characters, or settings used. They are all property of the Tolkien Estate, Alan Boubil, Claude Michel-Schönberg, Victor Hugo, Gaston Leroux, and Andrew Lloyd Webber. **

* * *

Enjolras was not in a good mood. First off, while giving a speech to his friends, he fell off of his chair that he was standing on. Secondly, he had to direct those imbeciles again at the Opera Populaire. Enjolras just sincerely hoped the man with the mask wasn't there. The mask gave off an eerie aura. Groaning, Enjolras dragged himself out of bed. He threw on his newly dry-cleaned red jacket and willed himself to walk to the Opera House of Hell, as he had so kindly nicknamed it.

* * *

Eru Ilúvatar was not having a good day. His mask fell off of his bedside table, shattering loudly as it broke into several hundred pieces. Oh no, Eru thought, that was a loan from Erik.

Sighing, Eru walked out of the door in his Middle-Earth clothes, which made him feel so much more regal than his Phantom of the Opera clothes. He had his people to run. Enjolras couldn't do this alone.

By chance, Eru Ilúvatar and Enjolras both arrived at the Opera Populaire at the same time. They looked at each other gravely.

"Let's enter this Hellhole," Enjolras said

"Hope we don't go insane," Eru Ilúvatar replied.

Enjolras just nodded and threw himself through the doors of the Opera House.

"Good morning, people I have to direct today!" His voice rang out as he entered the lobby of the grand building.

"Today we work on the song 'On Parole/The Bishop. If you can remember as far back as yesterday, Jean Valjean, played by Elrond, escaped the galleys where he was imprisoned. He got a yellow ticket of leave from Javert saying that for Valjean to be on parole, he had to report to the parole office. Understand?"

The lobby rang with statements of agreement from the people's of Middle Earth. At Enjolras' signal, they entered the theatre.

* * *

Enjolras called up Elrond onto stage and handed the reluctant elf a lyric sheet. The revolutionary walked off to the wings of the stage and pressed the play button on the CD player.

Elrond couldn't wait for this Jean Valjean to stop singing and become a minor character. Just to make sure he was almost done singing, he questioned the director.

"Erm, Mr. Enjolras? Am I almost done singing as Valjean? He is a minor character, right?"

Enjolras just smirked.

"No, my poor Elf, this Valjean is the main character, appearing in almost all of the songs. Have fun!"

The music resumed, and Elrond started panicking. He didn't want to sing a lot. It was all Eru's fault. Stupid creator of all life, he thought. Looking around in mortal terror, Elrond spotted the exit from the Opera Populaire. Freedom at last! He made a dash for it, robes streaming as he ran down the aisle in hopes of being liberated from the cruelty of singing Les Misérables.

Just as he pushed the doors open, two men, most likely Gamling and Háma, dragged him back onstage.

"Um, monsieur, we have your singer," Gamling said to Enjolras.

"Since when do you speak French?" Háma asked. Gamling just shrugged, and the two Rohirrim walked back to their seats nonchalantly.

Elrond sighed in defeat and walked over to the microphone, waiting for the music to start. Looking down at the lyric sheet, he began singing.

"Freedom is mine. The Earth is still. I feel the wind. I breath again. And the sky clears, the world is waiting. Drink from the pool. How clean the taste. Never forget the years, the waste. Nor forgive them, for what they've done. They are the guilty, everyone. The day begins... And now let's see what this new world will do for me!"

* * *

Enjolras pressed the pause button. Well, he thought, that had gone off without a hitch. Now, to find two more singers. The fun part. The revolutionary stood up and clapped his hands to get the audience's attention.

"All right, I need two men who are hard workers. How about..." His eyes scanned the rows of people, finally centering on Éomer the Unfortunate King of Rohan.

Éomer saw those blue eyes center on him. He gulped and slid down in his seat, trying to hide in plain sight. Lothíriel whacked his arm.

"Stop doing that. Everyone can see you," she hissed in his ear.

"You," Enjolras called, "what is your name?"

No answer.

That earned Éomer the Unfortunate King of Rohan yet another whack on the arm from his wife, who then answered, "My husband's name is Éomer, sir."

Enjolras beckoned towards the microphone.

"Come on then, Éomer. Nothing to fear," Enjolras soothed.

Éomer wouldn't budge.

There was a sigh from across the room. Éothain stood and walked up onto the stage and addressed the director of this delightful musical.

"Pardon me, sir, but he was just recently married. Actually, his wedding was interrupted when you called us all here. Perhaps he wishes not to be parted from his wife at the moment."

Enjolras seemed placated by this.

"So, would you accept this role?" he asked Éothain, who nodded

All heads were turned when Éomer came bounding up to the stage and hugged Éothain.

"I love you!" Éomer proclaimed.

The room went silent. Everyone had a confused express on their face, save for Lothíriel, who looked slightly exasperated at her husband's faux pas.

Éomer finally realized his mistake, cleared his throat, and grinned sheepishly at Éothain.

"In a non-romantic friend way, of course," he amended, and then ran back to his seat as quickly as possible. Sitting down, he curled up in fetal position.

"Still not working," Lothiríel so kindly informed him. Wow, Éomer thought, he really needed to work on his hiding skills.

* * *

Enjolras walked back to the microphone.

"Okay, I need one more person for this really small role. They will only sing around four lines," he said to the audience.

Elrond was wallowing. Why couldn't that be him?

* * *

Erkenbrand saw Éothain's devious smile before everyone else. Oh no.

That said singer walked over to the microphone and spoke.

"I nominate my dear friend Erkenbrand. His warbling is simply sublime. You absolutely must hear him sing."

Enjolras agreed to this sabotage.

"Come on up, Erkenbrand."

A furious Rohir came storming onto the stage.

"What do we do now?" an overly smug Éothain asked.

Enjolras handed them both lyric sheets.

"Sing these. You, Éothain, are a laborer. You, Erkenbrand, are a farmer. Cue maestro!" And he pressed the play button.

Erkenbrand looked down at the offending piece of paper in his hands. Great, he was the first to sing.

And so he did, albeit a bit grudgingly.

"You'll have to go. I'll pay you off for the day. Collect your bits and pieces there and be on your way."

Elrond had to sing. Again.

"You've given me half what the other men get. This handful of tin wouldn't buy my sweat."

Enjolras walked over to a deadpan Elrond.

"No, no, Valjean needs more emotion. He got cheated by a farmer. Yell a little. Loosen up. Now, let's try that line again."

"You've given me half what the other men get. This handful of tin wouldn't buy my SWEAT!" Elrond shouted. "There, that good enough for you?"

Enjolras just nodded and gestured for Éothain to continue the singing.

"You broke the law, it's there for people to see. Why should you get the same as honest men like me."

Éomer whispered to Lothíriel, "Even his characters on stage act smug."

So true, Éomer, so true.

* * *

Enjolras dismissed the two Rohirrim, "I need an old man."

Gandalf and Saruman were both shoved onstage by Eru Ilúvatar.

"One of you will play the bishop, obviously a very good person. You who's scowling, get off stage," Enjolras commanded. Saruman happily went back to brooding in the corner of the opera. The revolutionary turned towards the person remaining.

"Your name?"

"Gandalf the White."

"Well, Gandalf the White, here is your lyric sheet. Please sit when you hear your cue."

Enjolras walked over to the CD player and pressed the play button.

"Come in sir, for you are weary, and the night is cold out there. Though our lives are very humble, what we have, we have to share. There is wine here to revive you. There is bread to make you strong. There's a bed to rest till morning. Rest from pain, and rest from wrong."

Elrond wished there really was wine. He needed something to drown out his sorrows in. Oh, it was his line. More singing. Joy.

"He let me eat my fill. I had the lion's share. The silver in his hands cost twice what I had earned in all those nineteen years, that lifetime of despair. And yet he trusted me; the old fool trusted me."

Gandalf made a little noise of indignation at being called an old fool, but let Elrond continue.

"He'd done his bit of good. I played the grateful serf and thanked him like I should. But when the house was still, I got up in the night. Took my silver, took my...FLIGHT!"

Everyone was awed when the Lord of Imladris hit that high note. Bravo Elrond.

Enjolras was thinking, those two that held back the king sounded perfect for the two roles coming up. He sauntered over to the microphone and spoke.

* * *

"Who were the two that held back Éomer King? Would you please come onstage?"

All audience heads swiveled to Háma and Gamling, who slowly trudged onstage to receive the lyric sheets a smirking Enjolras was holding out to them.

"Sing," the revolutionary commanded, "you, what is your name?"

"Háma."

"Háma, you are Constable 1. You..."

"Gamling."

"Are Constable 2. You have just caught Jean Valjean with the silver and brought him back to the bishop."

Both Rohirrim nodded. Simple enough.

The music started.

"Tell his reverence your story," Háma sang.

"Let us see if he's impressed," Gamling continued.

"You were lodging here last night."

"You were the honest bishop's guest."

"And then out of Christian goodness."

"When he learned about your plight."

"You maintain he made a gift of this silver..."

Gandalf the Bishop interrupted Háma.

"That is right."

Elrond looked up in confusion. What? The bishop was playing along?

Gandalf continued singing.

"But my friend, you left so early, surely something slipped your mind. You forgot I gave these also. Would you leave the best behind?"

Gandalf handed Elrond two silver candlesticks. The moment was ruined when Gollum dashed onstage, took the candlesticks, and zoomed off, all while muttering, "my preciouses."

The bewildered wizard cleared his throat and continued.

"So Messieurs you may release him, for this man has spoken true. I commend you for your duties, and God's blessings go with you."

Elrond looked up and found himself being addressed.

"But remember this my brother. See in this some higher plan. You must use this precious silver to become an honest man. By the witness of the martyrs, by the passion and the blood, God has raised you out of darkness. I have saved your soul for God."

And so the second song ended and the curtains closed.

* * *

Elrond was free! For the day. On the way out of the theatre, he heard Enjolras and Eru Ilúvatar talking.

"Wow, that was more fun than I had originally thought. Bending people to your will is fun," Enjolras admitted.

Eru Ilúvatar agreed, "wait till they see the casting list for Lovely Ladies."

Enjolras laughed, and the two schemers made their way outside.

* * *

The peoples of Middle Earth met in the center of the lobby. They had to face this fate yet again tomorrow.

* * *

**Another chapter! So sorry for the wait. Don't hurt me. Remember: I'll update if you review!**


	4. Elrond has a revelation!

**Sorry for the long wait. I have no excuse except for the fact that I've been lazy. Please don't kill me. Thanks to all who reviewed! I apologize if this story seems to drag in places. I want to include all fifty of the Les Mis songs.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own. Therefore; do not sue. Please?**

* * *

Elrond was feeling fairly optimistic today. Maybe Eru and that damn revolutionary would finally give him his well-deserved break from singing and make some other poor person have a solo for a change. Sighing, he threw himself out of bed and reached for his robes. If only Celebrían could see him now. She would be laughing hysterically. And so the wallowing Elf trudged out of his rooms and into the Opera Populaire's theatre.

* * *

The Peoples of Middle Earth went silent as Enjolras walked up the aisle and onto stage. Clearing his throat, the young Frenchman spoke into the microphone.

"Now, I know none of you really want to sing," he said; Elrond nodded his agreement, "so today only one person has to sing. The rest of you get the day off!" Many happy people, men and elves included, made to leave for the exit in the back when they were called back. Groaning, they shuffled back to their seats and waited for Enjolras to continue talking.

"The unfortunate, or lucky, person who will have to sing today also gets a break from singing for the next few songs. Well, that's not true; they have a few lines in the next song, and then a bit of a break. Anyway, here's the person…"

Elrond crossed his fingers, closed his eyes, and started rocking back and forth in his chair. This earned him some weird looks from Arwen and his twin sons. _Deal with it,_ his glare seemed to say. A bit worried, his children shrank back into their seats and prayed for the singing to be over and done with.

"…Elrond; who plays Jean Valjean!" Gah! Elrond cursed Enjolras and Eru fervently in his mind. Before he knew it, he was onstage, in front of the blasted microphone, with yet another mocking lyric sheet in his hands. With a look of despair on his face, the Lord of Imladris glanced over at Enjolras in hope that the revolutionary would take pity on him. Said revolutionary just smirked. No pity would be given today. Especially not to Elrond the Unfortunate Elf.

Enjolras pressed the play button on the CD player as Elrond gulped, finally glancing down at the lyric sheet.

_Cue Maestro._

* * *

_Yet another song_, Elrond thought, _the third. Only forty-seven left. Only forty-seven left. Only forty-seven left…_

In his chanting, Elrond missed his cue, and a slightly annoyed Enjolras pressed pause and spoke, "Monsieur Elrond, please stop daydreaming and talking to yourself. You missed your cue."

Luckily, Elrond had the good graces to look a tad bit sheepish as he looked back at the lyric sheet and prepared to sing. The music started. Again.

"What have I done, sweet Jesus, what have I done? Become a thief in the night; become a dog on the run. And have I fallen so far and is the hour so late that nothing remains but the cry of my hate? The cries in the dark that nobody hears, here where I stand at the turning of the years? If there's another way to go, I missed it twenty long years ago. My life was a war that could never be won. They gave me a number and murdered Valjean," Elrond looked up, "I thought I was Valjean. Aren't I still alive?"

Enjolras brushed this off with a wave of his hand, "It is all metaphorical, my dear good Elf. Merely metaphorical. You are still alive. You are still Valjean," insert pointed look, "and you are still singing."

Said Elf nodded and continued singing, "When they chained me and left me for dead, just for stealing a mouthful of bread." This was where Elrond began pacing back and forth across the stage.

"Yet why did I allow this man to touch my soul and teach me love? He treated me like any other. He gave me his trust; he called me brother. My life he claims for God above. Can such things be? For I had come to hate this world; this world that always hated…" In his fervent pacing, Elrond forgot about one of the support poles used to hold up part of the set. Let it suffice to say, his head could not take any more pain for the day. Noting the glare from Enjolras, he still kept on singing.

"Take an eye for an eye! Turn your heart into stone! This is all I have lived for! This is all I have known! One word from him and I'd be back beneath the lash, upon the rack. Instead he offers me my freedom. I feel my shame inside me like a knife. He told me that I have a soul. How does he know? What spirit came to move my life? Is there another way to go? I am reaching, but I fall, and the night is closing in as I stare into the void, to the whirlpool of my sin. I'll escape now from that world, from the world of Jean Valjean," here Elrond looked a bit hopeful, "Jean Valjean is nothing now; another story must begin!"

Holding this incredibly long note, Elrond ripped up the lyric sheet out of sheer joy and ran off the stage as the lights went black. Stunned the Peoples of Middle Earth who had been asleep or bored out of their minds up until that point, started applauding madly at the beautiful, albeit reluctant, singing of Lord Elrond.

* * *

"That's my son-in-law," Galadriel breathed, "who knew he'd amount to so much?" On her right, Celeborn just gave her a strange look and continued applauding.

Even Gollum, who was sulking in the back row, was momentarily distracted from his precious and looked up at the stage.

"Nasty elveses sing horribly. It hurts our earses, Precious," he mumbled to himself.

Despite this oddity, almost everyone in the auditorium felt that that performance was absolutely spectacular. Elrond should sing more often.

* * *

Backstage, in the dark wings of the theatre, Elrond curled up into a ball.

_It was over,_ he thought, _my solo is over. No more singing! At least, no more singing for a little while. No more singing._

Then why did he feel so empty? Footsteps sounded, someone was approaching. _Not the revolutionary_. It was Enjolras. _Gah_! Said intruder walked over to Elrond and held out his hand.

"Well, my good Elf, I apologize for being a bit hard on you. If it would, erm, please you to know, while Valjean is the main character in this musical, he has only one more real solo, and then just little parts. Other characters have solos, too. Even I had one at one point." This was supposed to make Elrond feel better? Well, it did pacify him to know that others were also subjected to the same fate as him.

Grudgingly, he looked up at Enjolras and accepted the hand that was being held out. The young student wasn't that bad, really, just a bit of a dictator at times. The two shared a brief smile and walked their own separate ways; Enjolras to the theatre to calm down the inhabitants of Middle Earth, and Elrond to his room so he could collect his thoughts.

* * *

Back in his temporary apartment, Elrond sat at the foot of his bed and put his head in his hands. Could it be that he liked singing? Could it be that he found it enjoyable? What would Celebrían say? Again, an image of his wife mocking him popped into his mind. _Get out, _he thought, smacking his head, oh well, might as well sleep on it.

* * *

As Eru and Enjolras left the theatre after calming everyone down and ushering them back to their rooms, the two conspirators shared a look.

"Well, my young friend," Eru laughed, "it seems as if Elrond now enjoys singing. You have swayed him. My biggest congratulations."

Enjolras smiled, chuckling to himself, "Yes, the poor Elf will never know what hit him. Oh, speaking of which, did I tell you who I had in mind for Young Cosette?"

Eru shook his head.

"Well my friend," Enjolras tapped the side of his nose, "let me tell you all about it…"

And so this chaos was over for yet another day. Only forty-seven more to go.

* * *

**Ta-da! Another chapter done. Sorry it's a bit short, I'll be posting another one later tonight. The less people in a song, the shorter it is. I don't know if that's true, but I'll say it is for this one. Tell me what you thought. Remember, I update if you review! Ciao!**


	5. Harmonizing Nazgúl featuring Gríma!

**Hello everyone! Sorry I said I would update last night; my computer/Wifi was being stupid and I was trying to recreate Princess Leia hairstyles (I watched Star Wars for the first time last night). Thanks to all who reviewed. Who knew that by updating I would get 10 new reviews? As to whoever asked who Fantine would be; just keep reading. Oh, and** **I know I said there would be 50 songs, well, I was looking at the song list and I realized I counted awkwardly. It would be 50 if I included both forms of "Suddenly" from the 2012 movie and took out the instrumentals (Overture, the Sewers). Whoops. Well, I wanted to make this based off of the musical, but to keep the number at 50, those two movie songs are in. Also, I don't know anything about wedding** **vows on this Earth or on Middle Earth, so just bear with me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for a Galadriel dress in my closet and a crocheted Gandalf hat.**

* * *

Galadriel was having a dismally horrible morning. As she passed Elrond's rooms, she heard him mumbling in her head, "No more singing; that is not okay. No more singing. Elrond _must_ sing. Yes, Elrond _must_ sing!" Just a _little_ bit disturbed by this, the Lady of the Galadhrim ran past and dashed into the theatre. As she breezed through the lobby, she saw several hundred dark-haired Men holding battered suitcases being shown around by Enjolras. _Poor Gondorians. They have no idea what they're getting into_. _Ha! Suckers, _Galadriel thought to herself as she walked into the main theatre and plopped herself down in the front row.

After waiting for everyone else to come in and sit down, Galadriel saw Enjolras at the far end of the stage.

"Excuse me, young man? Will Elrond have a solo today? I heard him muttering about his lack of singing in his room this morning."

Enjolras looked up, "Um, let me think…no. He has a verse or so, and then because I tallied up the song count wrong, we are adding in two new songs from the 'motion picture,' whatever that is. One of the songs is yet another solo for Valjean, er, Elrond. It's called 'Suddenly.'"

Galadriel smiled very happily and sat back down in her seat. Just then, the rest of the Peoples of Middle Earth began streaming in through the open theatre doors, and Enjolras jumped onto the stage. Once everyone was seated, he spoke.

"Hello people I have manipulated, today we are working on one of the more ambitious songs. It has several people in it, including a group of people called 'The Poor.' So, I have brought in several hundred citizens from Gondor. They will only be here for today. Okay, today we are doing the song 'At the End of the Day.' It's about the poor in Montreuil-sur-Mer, a French town where Valjean is the mayor under the alias of 'Monsieur Madeleine'. In this song, we are introduced to Fantine, a young factory worker. By the end of the song, the factory foreman finds out about her secret and she gets fired. Everybody understand?"

Most heads were nodding, except for Merry and Pippin in box 5, who were looking around nervously for the shadow they think they saw. Something was not right, especially when Pippin heard a faint whisper of, "Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept empty?" in his ear.

Reaching into his pockets, Enjolras took out a piece of paper. A really long piece of paper.

"This is your lyrics sheet. Now, I will ask for a volunteer to play Fantine. Anyone?"

Only one hand went up. It was Gríma.

"You want to play Fantine?" questioned Enjolras. _This is a bit disturbing,_ he thought.

"No, but can I play the foreman?" Gríma inquired.

Enjolras blinked at this odd request. No one ever wanted to play a role voluntarily. How strange. Well, this "Gríma" fellow looked a bit on the creepier side, and the foreman seemed to be a decent part for him. Enjolras nodded.

"Please come on to stage then. Okay, so Fantine has blonde hair. Any _female_ blondes please come onstage."

Éowyn looked a bit worried. That creeper Gríma was looking at her with a malicious glint in his eyes. _Uh oh_. Grudgingly, she forced herself to march onstage.

Galadriel was a little bit more than worried. She was terrified. What if she ended up liking the same thing as Lord Elrond Her Idiot Son-In-Law? That would end horribly. _Poor Celeborn._ So the Lady of Light marched stiffly onto the stage.

* * *

"Very good," Enjolras smirked, "you! You are Fantine!"

Enjolras pointed at…Galadriel, who suddenly had a sinking feeling about this. "You, Lady Galadriel, do not have to sing yet. The Gondorians have the first few verses. Okay! Now I need a few factory workers and women."

Just then, Eru, who had been scouring Paris for a mask repair shop the previous day, came bounding onto the stage. He got quite a few weird looks, because his mask had been broken into several thousand pieces and then super-glued back together the previous day. _The man who lent me the mask, Erik, was not happy when I showed him the shards. He threatened me with something called a "Punjab lasso," whatever that is, _Eru thought to himself. After his little inner talk with himself, he turned to Enjolras.

"Enjolras, these five people are quite upset that they didn't get invited to this musical. Come here Imrahil, Tom Bombadil, Witch-King of Angmar, Fatty Bolger, and Goldberry!"

Said forgotten people stormed onto stage, arms folded, with an angry glint in their eyes.

Eru continued, "Now we just need one more unfortunate person, and then we have enough people for the factory workers and women."

Enjolras nodded, "Very good, but now we need people for the background. How about…those?"

His pointing finger landed on several Ringwraiths in Box 2. Here, Eru gulped and laughed nervously.

"Heh, heh, heh, sure…"

Enjolras then addressed the neglected, but happy about it, audience.

"I need one more person who is willing to sing more than a few lines. Anyone?"

Crickets. That is, until Galadriel called out, "Celeborn! Come up here!" If she liked singing, she would subject someone else to that fate, too. Who better than her dear old, beloved husband?

Celeborn glared at his wife, but that glare faded when he heard an ominous voice in his head. _Do it, or else. Remember the wedding vows_ _we said_, the voice whispered. Oh yes, Celeborn did remember…

* * *

… "_Do you, Celeborn, Lord of the Galadhrim, take Galadriel, Lady of Light, to be your wife and companion in sickness and in health for the rest of your days?" the Elf who had been appointed as priest questioned._

_Celeborn answered, "I do."_

_The other Elf continued, "And do you promise to get dragged into whatever trouble your wife gets into, no matter how bad it is? Do you promise to join her in all musical productions held by young Frenchmen?"_

_Celeborn looked up. These were strange vows. What is a Frenchman? But he answered anyway…_

* * *

… "I do." _Oh no, stupid wedding vows. Forever binding, _Celeborn thought. Finally, he picked up himself and his dignity and marched up the aisle onto the stage. As he stood next to Galadriel, he heard that same annoying voice in his head. _Ah, you remembered the wedding vows_, here Galadriel smirked, _forever binding, are they not_. The smirk faded and turned into a scowl. _My voice is not annoying_! Celeborn whimpered and scooted to the other side of the stage as discreetly as possible. _So subtle, dear Celeborn,_ Galadriel continued.

"Go away!" Celeborn shouted across the stage. Enjolras looked a bit nervous and quickly tried to get everything under control.

"Okay, Celeborn and those brought in by Eru, you are the factory workers and women. You black cloaked things: you are the extras in the factory. Sing on the ensemble parts. You Gondorians are the poor. You Gríma, are the factory foreman. And, last but not least, you, Galadriel, are Fantine," Enjolras faltered, "oh! Lord Elrond! Please come onstage. You have a verse."

A shout of joy went up from the audience. "I get to sing!" Elrond yelled as he ran onstage.

Enjolras just ignored him and pressed the play button on the CD player. "Okay everybody, cue music and singing!"

"At the end of the day you're another day older, and that's all you can say for the life of the poor," the Gondorians sang, "It's a struggle, it's a war, and there's nothing that anyone's giving. One more day standing about, what is it for? One day less to be living. At the end of the day you're another day colder, and the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill. And the righteous hurry past, they don't hear the little ones crying. And the winter is coming on fast, ready to kill. One day nearer to dying!"

The Gondorians started moving about the set piece of a poor town.

"At the end of the day there's another day dawning, and the sun in the morning is ready to rise. Like the waves crash on the sand; like a storm that'll break any second. There's a hunger in the land, there's a reckoning still to be reckoned, and…"

Here the Gondorians gather outside of a set building with a sign that says "Factory" on it.

"There's gonna be hell to pay at the end of the day!"

Enjolras gestured frantically for all those in the factory to come onstage as Eru changed the sets. Seeing his cue, Gríma began singing.

"At the end of the day you get nothing for nothing. Sitting flat on your butt doesn't buy any bread."

Éomer in the audience whispered to his wife, "That worm is so crude. Why is it that everyone's character fits their personality perfectly? Even Gollum as that inspector makes sense, after all, they're both looking for something or someone nonstop throughout the course of the story."

Lothíriel shushed him, "Quiet! My father's on now!"

Imrahil of Dol Amroth, father of Lothíriel, now sang his minor part.

"There are children back at home."

Tom Bombadil was next, singing alongside Imrahil, "And the children have got to be fed."

Now Tom sang alone, "And you're lucky to be in a job…"

"And in a bed," Celeborn warbled. Looking down at the lyrics sheet, he frowned, saying, "Wait, Enjolras, it says I play a role called 'Woman number 1.' Why am I a woman?"

Enjolras just laughed. Galadriel soon joined in, while the music continued playing.

"Wait!" Enjolras rewound the music, "continue."

Now the few Nazgûl in the back sang in their screeching voices, "And we're counting our blessings."

Their friend, the Witch-King of Angmar, continued, "Have you seen how the foreman is fuming today with his terrible breath and his wandering hands?" If a Nazgûl could look disgusted, this one did.

Fatty Bolger sang, "It's because little Fantine won't give him his way." Fatty Bolger looked up, "But she's an Elf. She's not 'little!'"

Enjolras rolled his eyes and sighed, "It's all metaphorical, my good Hobbit. Merely metaphorical."

"Oh."

Celeborn, reading his next lyrics, gave a little dry-heave, but sang anyway, "Take a look at his trousers; you'll see where he stands." With a murderous look on his face, the Lord of Lórien turned towards Gríma. "You stay away from my wife!"

Tom Bombadil looked worriedly from Goldberry, his wife, to Gríma. Luckily, Goldberry started singing and stopped all future brawls.

"And the boss, he never knows that the foreman is always on heat."

Fatty Bolger continued, "If Fantine doesn't look out watch how she goes. She'll be out on the street." Here, all of the factory workers and women turned to face Galadriel, who fidgeted from all of the stares. Those said workers, women, Nazgûl, and Galadriel began singing.

"At the end of the day it's another day over, with enough in your pockets to last for a week. Pay the landlord, pay the shop. Keep on grafting as long as you're able. Keep on grafting till you drop, or it's back to crumbs off the table. You've got to pay your way, at the end of the day!"

Seeing Enjolras' hand motions, Celeborn grabbed the lyric sheet from Galadriel, but also slipped her his own so she could still sing.

"And what have we here, little innocent sister? Come on Fantine, let's have all the news. Oh! 'Dear Fantine, you must send us more money… Your child needs a doctor… There's no time to lose…"

Both Galadriel and Celeborn looked up at each other in horror. Galadriel spoke, "Celebrían's sick!"

"Our child is sick?" Celeborn yelled, glaring at Eru, "and you didn't tell us?"

Enjolras hopped off of his chair and walked over to the Lord and Lady of Lórien. "No, my Lord, my Lady, this is _Fantine's_ child, Cosette. Celebrían is quite fine in Valinor. She sends her greetings."

"Oh," Galadriel put a hand to her heart, immensely relieved. After taking a deep breath, she continued singing.

"Give that letter to me; it is none of your business. With a husband at home and a bit on the side! Is there anyone here who can swear before God she has nothing to fear? She has nothing to hide?"

At Enjolras' direction, Galadriel punched her unfortunate spouse, who quickly punched back. This fine married couple soon began fighting each other very convincingly. Enjolras looked a bit worried, and called an overjoyed Elrond onto stage.

"I can sing again," he whispered, and then cleared his throat, "Will someone tear these two apart? What is this fighting all about? This is a factory, not a circus! Now, come on ladies," here Elrond snorted, seeing his parents-in-law fist-fighting, but he still continued, "settle down. I run a business of repute. I am the mayor of this town. I look to you to sort this out, and be as patient as you can."

Now Gríma began, "Now, someone say how this began!"

Celeborn stood up with a swollen lip and his hair all tangled, "At the end of the day she's the one who began it! There's a kid that she's hiding in some little town. There's a man she has to pay. You can guess how she picks up the extra. You bet she's earning her keep sleeping around! And the boss wouldn't like it."

Galadriel started to laugh at Celeborn's appearance, but tried to scowl as she sang, "Yes it's true there's a child, and the child is my daughter. And her father abandoned us leaving us flat. Now she lives with an innkeeper man and his wife and I pay for the child. What's the matter with that?"

The Nazgûl and all of the factory women now sang, "At the end of the day she'll be nothing but trouble. And there's trouble for all when there's trouble for one! While we're earning our daily bread she's the one with her hands in the butter. You must send the slut away or we're all gonna end in the gutter. And it's us who have to pay at the end of the day!"

A giggle sounded from box five. Pippin nearly fell out laughing, "Ha! You swore! Now I have to wash out your mouths with soap!"

Frodo shrank down in his seat, "Shut up, Pip."

"Hmph."

Onstage, Gríma walked over to Galadriel and stuck a finger in her face. Galadriel cringed.

"I might have known the bitch could bite. I might have known the cat had claws. I might have guessed your _little_ secret. Ah yes, the virtuous Fantine, who keeps herself so pure and clean, you'd be the cause, I had no doubt, of any trouble hereabout. You play a virgin in the light, but need no urgin' in the night!"

And so Gríma got his face slapped by a very angry Lady of Light.

Celeborn gulped and loosened the collar on his robes, "She's been laughing at you while she's having her men." He pointedly looked at Galadriel, who frowned and shook her head. _Elves don't sleep around_, she spoke to him in his mind, _so stop thinking that!_ Celeborn nodded and looked away.

Now all the Nazgûl and factory workers and women sang, "She'll be nothing but trouble again and again."

"You must sack her today," Celeborn sang, while the rest of the Nazgûl shrieked, "sack the girl today!"

Gríma grabbed Galadriel and shoved her off of the stage, "Right my girl. On your way!"

There was an ominous thud as Galadriel hit the bottom of the orchestra pit. Celeborn rushed over and yanked her out. As soon as she was back onstage, Galadriel glared at the cursed advisor of Théoden King and spoke in his mind, _You will pay for that worm. Oh yes! You will pay!_ Gríma left the theatre very quickly after that.

When the music stopped, Enjolras walked to the microphone, "Good job people. This was definitely one of the harder songs. Remember to come back tomorrow bright and early! Good job today!"

Happily, the Peoples of Middle Earth dashed out of the theatre and into their rooms with an HD TV.

* * *

Eru walked over to Enjolras, who was organizing some papers.

"Good job directing them all."

Enjolras looked up, "Yeah, I'm worried about Lovely Ladies. Your casting was very, um, interesting. Anyway, that Gollum creature will be back soon as Javert."

Eru just smiled, "Yes, we better beware. So you have a young Cosette, right?" Enjolras nodded as Eru continued, "that's great, now we need to find a young Éponine. I have the perfect person in mind."

Enjolras ushered Eru outside, "You can tell me all about over a drink with me and my friends. I wonder if Gavroche is there. He has a little surprise for the two of us."

"Very good!"

And so the two lovers of manipulation walked outside, thinking about how great their schemes were.

* * *

**My longest chapter yet! Whoo! Hope you liked it. I'll update tomorrow, or tonight, but most likely tomorrow. If there are any errors or things you would like to see, feel free to tell/PM me. Ciao!**


	6. Enjolras Cries and Éomer Hides Yet Again

**This is the second chapter I've uploaded today, so if you haven't read Chapter 5, please do so. Just because I uploaded twice on one day doesn't mean you have to only review once… Oh, and this chapter will be shorter than most.**

**Disclaimer: I only wish I owned any of this stuff.**

* * *

Éomer walked into the theatre with Lothíriel the next morning, bright and early.

"I wonder if we'll be forced to sing soon," Lothíriel asked. Éomer just shuddered in response. Hand in hand, they sat down in the back corner to avoid Enjolras' eye.

"Good morning!" said director spoke into in the microphone, "today we will have a solo."

A shout went up from the middle of the theatre.

"Whoo!" it was Elrond, "I get a solo!"

Enjolras rolled his eyes, "not yet. Your next solo is coming up. Today…Fantine sings!"

All heads swiveled to Galadriel, who paled. _Oh joy, more singing. And a solo at that. Ilúvatar help me. _Galadriel glanced to the man next to Enjolras, the one who wore the half-mask and created all life. _Never mind. Ilúvatar would be of no help today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Might as well go sing._

And so Galadriel stood up and trudged onto the stage. Seeing the lyric sheet that that damned blond boy held out, she grabbed it angrily and stalked towards the microphone. Enjolras stood from his chair and walked towards the mic.

"So in this song, Fantine is thinking about how much her life has changed from how she thought it would be. She thought the man who was Cosette's father would marry her. She thought she would have a nice life full of happiness. But reality hit, and here she is. Also, this is an emotional song. Please save all comments for the end."

Galadriel nodded and the music started.

* * *

Slow, mournful notes floated out of the CD player that Enjolras was smugly stroking. Galadriel took a deep breath. _I can do this. If Elrond can do this, I can do this. It is only this once. Okay, here goes._

"There was a time when men were kind. When their voices were soft, and their words inviting. There was a time when love was blind. When the world was a song. And the song was exciting. There was time… Then it all went wrong."

Galadriel's gaze wandered over to Celeborn, who just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I dreamed a dream in time gone by. When hope was high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die. I dreamed that God would be forgiving. Then I was young and unafraid. Then dreams were made and used… wasted. There was no ransom to be paid. No song unsung, no wine untasted."

Now the Lady of Light sat down, looking defeated, still holding the mike.

"But the tigers come at night, with their voices soft as thunder," here Pippin was about to speak up, but was soon silenced by a glare from Enjolras. But still Galadriel sang on, "As they tear your hope apart. As they turn your dreams to shame!"

Everyone in the theatre started to clap as Galadriel held this extremely long note. A tear coursed down Enjolras' cheek, but if anyone asked him about it later, he would say it never happened. _Revolutionaries don't cry. Especially not Enjolras. Definitely not Enjolras. _Even Elrond looked very impressed. _No one can hold long notes like me, but my mother-in-law is doing pretty well. No one can sing solos as well as me, but Galadriel tried. Also, she's the dreaded mother in law_. _Of course I'm better. I am much better than Galadriel_. Now Elrond felt better and held his head a bit higher.

Galadriel continued her heart-wrenching song, "And still I dream he'll come to me. That we will live the years together. But there are dreams that cannot be, and there are storms we cannot weather."

Éomer looked down to see Lothíriel sobbing into his newly dry-cleaned shirt. _Great_. Helplessly, he glanced over at Faramir two seats down. Said brother-in-law just shrugged and gestured down at Éowyn, who was also sobbing hysterically.

"Women," Éomer muttered under his breath. This earned him a chuckle from Faramir, a glare from Éowyn, and a punch in the shoulder from Lothíriel. _Apparently sobbing women can still beat you up_, Éomer thought, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

"I had a dream my life would be so different from this Hell I'm living."

Lothíriel glared pointedly at Éomer, who tried to scrunch up into a ball in his seat. "Still not working," he heard Lothíriel whisper, "what is it with you and hiding unsuccessfully in plain sight?"

Éomer just shrugged.

Enjolras sat on the edge of his seat. The song moved him more than he would care to admit and he had even been to multiple productions of _Les Misérables._

Galadriel, sensing the end of the song was near, put as much emotion into the last few lines as possible.

"So different now from what it seemed."

The audience took a collective breath.

"Now, life has killed the dream I dreamed."

Elrond grumbled to himself. _That was a pretty nice long note. Maybe even better than mine._

The final notes of the music track finished as Galadriel stood up and walked off stage.

When the theatre was silent, the audience just sat there in shock. One by one, everyone started clapping and whistling. Even Gollum stopped what he was doing, muttering to himself, and clapped twice. And then he resumed his incessant muttering.

In box five, Pippin commented to the shadowy figure next to him, "I still don't understand what tigers are doing in Paris. Or how their voices can be like thunder. How can thunder be soft? How? How?"

Erik the Phantom, who was missing his mask, rolled eyes and left his favorite private box.

"What?" Pippin asked Merry, "that blond in the red jacket said to keep all questions until the end!"

"Oh, Pip."

"What?"

* * *

Enjolras walked backstage to meet Galadriel.

"You did a brilliant job, my lady." _And you made me cry._

Galadriel smiled and tapped the side of her nose, "I won't tell anyone. Even a stoic Frenchman like you has to show emotions sometimes, right?"

Enjolras looked sheepish and nodded, "Yeah. Oh, my lady?"

"Yes?"

"The next song is a bit, erm, interesting. I apologize in advance."

Galadriel looked slightly worried, "Noted. I'll see you tomorrow, Enjolras."

Enjolras nodded and walked back onstage to hand out tissues to the audience. _We're going to be here for a while._

* * *

As the Peoples of Middle Earth finally left the theatre a few hours later, Eru caught up with Enjolras.

"Lovely Ladies tomorrow."

"Oh no."

* * *

**Ta-da! I'll update tomorrow with the Lovely Ladies chapter. Oh joy. Please review! Feel free to email/PM me any constructive criticism or future ideas. And for those who wondered who Young Cosette is… it is not Boromir or Gollum. Or Aragorn either. Ciao!**


	7. Galadriel falls and Saruman sings

**Thanks to those who reviewed! Now we have the long-anticipated chapter of Lovely Ladies! This is going to be fun! And quite possibly mentally scarring…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own; please do not sue.**

* * *

Enjolras was walking to the Opera Populaire when he saw Eru waiting outside. Jogging over to where Eru was, Enjolras slapped a devilish grin on his face.

"Lovely Ladies today," he said.

Eru's eyebrows went up, "This should be fun!"

"You ready?"

Eru nodded, and the two walked into the theatre.

* * *

Still smirking, Enjolras walked onstage and to the microphone.

"Hello people who will soon tear out their eyes," this remark earned him some weird looks, but he just brushed them off, "today we are doing a song called 'Lovely Ladies.'"

In box five, Pippin commented to Sam, "Well, that doesn't sound so bad. Just a bunch of pretty women. That doesn't explain why he said we'll tear out our eyes, does it?"

On Pippin's right, Erik the Phantom just replied sarcastically, "Yes, that's what 'Lovely Ladies' is about; pretty women just randomly singing!"

Pippin looked happy with this answer, despite the blatant sarcasm, "See Sam, pretty women singing!"

"Oh, Pip."

"What?"

Back on the stage, Enjolras looked at the faces of those in the audience. _The fools, _he thought, _completely unaware of what is to come. _But he continued his daily blurb about the song.

"Lovely Ladies is _not_, despite common belief, about pretty women. It is about the Red Light District where Fantine," here Galadriel paled, "goes to sell her hair, two of her teeth, and her body. All this for money to save Cosette, her daughter."

A faint "oh" was heard from box five.

Enjolras spoke again, "Now, for this song, I obviously need Fantine. Come onstage Lady Galadriel. Remember, I apologized in advance yesterday, so don't even bother."

Enjolras suddenly stopped his casting when he heard a voice in his mind. _Why you…you…scoundrel! There is no apologizing in advance! You. Will. Pay._ Enjolras gulped and mumbled to himself, "Well it's a good thing Fantine dies soon."

"Come onstage, Lady Galadriel. Celeborn can't be dragged into this anymore. Anyway, now I need three, erm, _customers_ for this song. Any volunteers?"

Everyone shrank down in their seats, except for Gollum in the far right corner, who just hissed, "No, precious, we will not be a customer today."

Frodo looked down from box five and shouted, "You are already the inspector!"

Gollum just sneered.

Enjolras cleared his throat and addressed his reluctant audience, "Okay, no volunteers. Let me see… I need three… Oh! I haven't used Elves in a while. Three male Elves, who haven't sung, please come onstage! Now!"

Haldir looked to his right, where his two blissfully ignorant brothers were sitting. Said Marchwarden of Lórien stood and pointed at his brothers sitting next to him. "I nominate my two brothers! Rumil and Orophin!"

Enjolras nodded. _Good. Two down, one to go_. "Please come onstage Rumil and Orophin. You, Rumil, will be 'Customer 1,' and you, Orophin, will be 'Customer 2."

The two just gulped and reluctantly nodded while Enjolras continued.

"I need another Elf. How about… you?" his finger centered on Círdan the Shipwright, who walked onto the stage to avoid any future trouble.

Enjolras muttered to himself, "Oh yeah, I need a captain. Another Elf. Where to find another Elf?"

His eyes scanned the crowd and landed on Lindir.

"You!"

Lindir got that sudden sinking feeling that most of the singers from Middle Earth had already experienced.

A groan came from the aisle.

"Aw. I want to sing!"

Arwen just whacked her father on the arm. "No, Ada," she whispered firmly, "you are probably in the next song."

Elrond calmed down instantly, already daydreaming about what his song would be like. Maybe he would get a solo…

While Elrond was away in his own little world, Lindir finally decided that he should just suck it up and walk onto stage. Enjolras placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You have a silent role. Don't worry."

Lindir nodded and sighed in relief.

Enjolras now scanned the crowd, "Okay, I need a group of you to play the prostitutes. How about…you! You there in the back! Please come onstage!"

Said group of people walked over to the mic while the entire crowd when white as a sheet.

"Okay, you, you are 'Prostitute 1.' You, you are 'Prostitute 2.' And you, you are 'Prostitute 3.' Got it?" Those three "prostitutes" nodded.

Galadriel looked worriedly at the people who were cast as prostitutes. _This is going to be…erm…interesting. Very, very, interesting. Here goes._

Enjolras looked through his casting list. "Yes, that's everyone… Wait!"

The worried crowd looked at him in sheer terror.

"We need a creepy guy to play the pimp."

All eyes centered on Gríma, but Enjolras just waved him off.

"No, he's already been in this musical. How about…" Enjolras' eyes moved to the poor, unfortunate soul sitting next to Gríma, "you? Could you be the pimp?"

Saruman just twitched awkwardly in his seat. Sensing that no answer would be the right one, he just stood up and walked onto stage.

Enjolras smiled triumphantly, "Perfect! Now we just need a 'Hair Crone' and a 'Locket Crone.'" His eyes landed on two from the prostitute crowd onstage. "You two, be the two crones." Said crones nodded and took their new lyric sheets.

The revolutionary, who was enjoying this too much, walked over to the CD player and pressed play.

As the music started, Galadriel looked over at Celeborn. _I'll miss you. When you reach Valinor, tell Celebrían I love her. See you_ _in Mandos_, she spoke in his mind. With a look of sheer terror on her face, Galadriel turned towards the mic. _Let Lovely Ladies begin_…

* * *

Rumil looked at his lyric sheet. _Oh no,_ he thought, _I'm first! Here goes nothing…_

"I smell women, smell 'em in the air. Think I'll drop me anchor in that harbor over there."

Orophin dry-heaved. It was his turn next. So he sang, "Lovely ladies, smell 'em through the smoke. Seven days at sea and now I'm hungry for a poke."

Círdan the Shipwright looked horrified. He was next and Orophin had just insulted the sea and all ships. But he still sang, "Even stokers need a little stoke."

Nobody in the audience was prepared for what came next. Eru fell off his stool in the wings in shock, while Enjolras felt as if the breath was knocked right out of him. And not in a good way.

There were Orcs.

Hundreds of Orcs.

And all of them were dressed in skimpy clothing.

_Thump_. Galadriel had fallen to the ground. _So these are my coworkers. Someone please help me._ But she stood up nonetheless, waiting for her cue.

The Orcs began screeching, "Lovely ladies waiting for a bite. Waiting for the customers who only come at night. Lovely ladies, ready for the call. Standing up or lying down or anyway at all. Bargain prices up against a wall."

Éomer looked very green and felt positively sick. He shrank down in his seat, praying Lothíriel wouldn't notice his blatant hiding. To his surprise, she just whispered, "Can I join you?" Éomer just nodded.

Back onstage, an Orc named Shagrat walked over to Galadriel, who cringed. "Come here my dear, let's see this trinket you wear. This bagatelle…"

Galadriel answered, "Madame, I'll sell it to you."

Shagrat continued, "I'll give you four."

"That wouldn't pay for the chain!"

"I'll give you five, you're far too eager to sell, it's up to you."

Galadriel stomped her foot, "It's all I have."

Shagrat sneered, "That's not my fault."

"Please make it ten."

Shagrat began to walk away, "No more than five. My dear, we all must stay alive!"

Now the rest of the Orcs jumped out again, startling everybody present.

"Lovely ladies waiting in the dark. Ready for a thick one or a quick one in the park. Long time, short time, any time, my dear. Cost a little extra if you want to take all year. Quick and cheap is underneath the pier!"

Now the Orc called Gorbag walked over to Galadriel, who quickly steeled her nerves.

Gorbag yanked at Galadriel's long, golden hair, "What pretty hair, what pretty locks you got there. What luck you got, it's worth a centime my dear. I'll take the lot!"

Galadriel didn't need to act on the next line, "Don't touch me! Leave me alone!"

But still, Gorbag continued, "Let's make a price, I'll give you all of ten francs. Just think of that!"

Galadriel looked deeply in thought, "It pays a debt."

"Just think of that."

Galadriel turned to Gorbag, "What can I do? It pays a debt. Ten francs may save my poor Cosette!"

Again the Orcs came out and startled everyone. This time, there were two groups of Orcs singing, "Lovely ladies, lovely little girls. Lovely ladies, lovely little ladies. Lovely girlies, lovely little girls. We are lovely, lovely girls."

While at the same time, the three poor Elves sang with the Orcs, "Lovely ladies, what's a lady for? Sailors! Fastest on the street; wasn't there three minutes, she was back up on her feet. Lovely lady! What yer waiting for? Doesn't take a lot of savvy just to be a whore. Come on, lady, what's a lady for?"

Now Galadriel quickly put on a bald cap and turned around to face the audience.

Saruman now had his first line, "Give me the dirt; who's that bit over there?"

An Orc named Snaga answered, "A bit of skirt, she's the one sold her hair."

Now an Orc called Grishnák sang, "She's got a kid, sends her all that she can."

Saruman grinned ominously, "I might have known; there is always some man," here he turned to Galadriel, "lovely lady, come along and join us! Lovely lady!"

Snaga sang again, "Come on dearie, why all the fuss? You're no grander than the rest of us."

Grishnák's turn; "Life has dropped you at the bottom of the heap. Join your sisters, make money in your sleep!"

An Orc named Uglúk now sang, "That's right dearie, let him have the lot. That's right dearie, show him what you've got!"

An unfortunate Linder got pushed onto the stage next to Galadriel. And still, the Orcs continued singing.

"Old men, young men, take 'em as they come. Harbor rats and alley cats and every type of scum. Poor men, rich men, leaders of the land. See them with their trousers off; they're never quite as grand. All it takes is money in your hand! Lovely ladies going for a song. Got a lot of callers but they never stay for long."

Galadriel looked up at Lindir, who stared right back. Both Elves were scarred by now. Taking a deep breath, Galadriel sang,

"Come on, Captain, you can wear your shoes. Don't it make a change to have a girl who can't refuse? Easy money, lying on a bed. Just as well they never see the hate that's in your head. Don't they know they're making love to one already dead?"

Yet another long note for Galadriel, although Elrond just snarled at the stage. Nobody would ever be as good as Elrond at long notes. Never!

* * *

When the song was over, the audience just sat back in shock. Not an amazed shock like when Galadriel sang "I dreamed a dream" the day before. No, it was a horrified, disgusted shock.

Looking around, Éomer finally came out of hiding. When he tapped Lothíriel on the shoulder, she popped up, looking a tad worse for the wear.

Éomer spoke, "Thank you! It's over!"

Lothíriel just nodded.

As if rehearsed, all of the Peoples of Middle Earth in the auditorium ran as fast as was possible out of the theatre and into their own respective rooms. There, they curled up into balls in their closets, trying to cope with the horror they just witnessed. The Peoples of Middle Earth would never be the same.

* * *

Back in the deserted theatre, Enjolras and Eru met up with each other.

Enjolras grinned, "Well that was entertaining."

* * *

**There! That was…scary. Hope it met up to your expectations. Feel free to PM me any suggestions or constructive criticism that you guys may have.**


	8. Combeferre and Courfeyrac join the show

**I am so sorry about the really late update. Real life caught up and I've been doing volunteer week at local charities. Oh, and it's my birthday tomorrow! I started counting down the hours a few minutes ago! Why do I love presents so much? Yesterday, I found the Les Misérables 25th anniversary DVD. It was great, except for when Nick Jonas came on. I started crying. And I discovered the joys of Netflix, because they have the Phantom of the Opera 25th anniversary show on streaming. I've watched that every day for a week… Sorry for the late update. Don't hurt me. This chapter starts off a bit slow. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I only own Galadriel and Arwen costumes. And a 2004 Lord of the Rings Video game. And chess set. And crocheted Gandalf hat. But not the Lord of the Rings (or Les Misérables or the Phantom of the Opera) themselves. All other songs in this chapter belong to their respective artists.**

* * *

When Enjolras woke up the next day, the first thing he did was look in the mirror. A scream escaped his throat. _This is not good, _he panicked, _must_ _find beret or ski cap. _The second thing Enjolras did that morning was glanced over at the calendar on top of his bedside table. "Call Courfeyrac and Gavroche" was written in bright red marker. Noting what the calendar said, Enjolras stood up and grabbed the phone from his desk and dialed.

"Yeah. Hi Gavroche… Mmmhmm… Good, you have it set up… Really? Can you please get Courfeyrac?... Sure…"

* * *

On the other side of the line, Gavroche jumped down from the stool he was perched on and ran over to Courfeyrac.

"Courfeyrac, phone."

Said man nodded and picked up the receiver.

"Hello Enjolras…"

* * *

Enjolras smiled and spoke into the phone.

"Hello Courfeyrac… No, it's going fine… Lovely Ladies yesterday… Yes, it was entertaining… No, I can't make them do it again… Maybe… How would you and Combeferre like to come over and help me direct for the next week?... Gavroche is always welcome… Marius? Why would you want him? He's a Buonapartist pansy!... I don't care if he's your friend… You still want him to come? Fine... Next week. Maybe… See you in an hour, is that alright?... See you then…"

Enjolras hung up and walked into his apartment's kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. When the cup was ready, he grabbed it and walked onto his balcony. It was very generous of Eru to supply him with this delightful apartment in the heart of Paris. The solitude was a nice change. No Grantaire or Combeferre to nag him. No Marius around to daydream. No speeches to be made or friends to be calmed down.

But then again, he realized, he had to direct thousands of insane people from a parallel world in a really long musical. Oh well, you can't win everything. And the apartment came with free cable and Wifi.

When Enjolras finished his cup of coffee, there was a series of loud knocks on the door. _Courfeyrac and Combeferre_, Enjolras grumbled to himself, plunking the empty cup down on the kitchen counter. Opening the front door, he scowled at his two friends.

"You two are forty-five minutes early, and you were supposed to meet me there. Where's Gavroche?"

Combeferre just smiled as a blue blur sped into the apartment and sat down on the couch. Said blue blur was Gavroche. Gavroche hyped up on sugary breakfast cereals.

Courfeyrac wasn't as cheerful. He wasn't a morning person.

"Hey Enjolras, why are you wearing a beret? You never wear hats."

Enjolras glared at Courfeyrac murderously, but groaned when Gavroche started to jump on the sofa. Murderous glare still pasted on his face, Enjolras turned back towards his two friends, "I'll explain about the beret in a minute. What did you feed Gavroche?"

"Cheerios," Combeferre grinned.

Enjolras gave him a confused look. That doesn't sound so bad. But it still doesn't explain the hyper Gavroche.

"Cheerios with added sugar and chocolate milk. With whipped cream on top, along with chocolate syrup," Courfeyrac supplied.

"That explains it. Now, about the beret," Enjolras took off said hat.

Combeferre's eyes went wide and a gasp escaped his lips. Courfeyrac's reaction was a little bit less sophisticated. He screamed like a girl. Gavroche heard the scream and ran over. As he noticed what Enjolras was hiding under the beret, he started to giggle hysterically.

The murderous glare grew more murderous, if that was possible.

"Not one word," Enjolras hissed, and then motioned to his kitchen.

The three Amis, all in various emotional states, walked into the kitchen room and sat down at the table. Enjolras was the first to speak.

"Ignore the beret, please. Anyways, I called you two over to help me direct the show for the next week. I think the actors would appreciate a few new faces. They sure are sick of mine."

Combeferre looked at Enjolras more closely, knowing his friend well, "Where's the catch?"

Enjolras glared back at him, looking affronted, and replied sarcastically, "Thank you for trusting me so much, Combeferre, my dear friend. I already finished Lovely Ladies yesterday. Young Cosette is appearing soon, and I have the perfect little girl in mind. So, will you help me direct?"

The other two Amis nodded, and once they had dragged Gavroche away from Enjolras' candy stash and the TV, the four made their way to the Opera house.

* * *

Back at the Opera house dormitories, Arwen was fuming. Elrond was running loose around the hallways singing cheesy songs from the 1980's on the top of his lungs. After trying to restrain him and lock him up in his closet unsuccessfully, she decided just to let him flap through the corridors in his ridiculous robes and annoy everyone else.

"I'm never gonna dance again. Guilty feet have got no rhythm. Though it's easy to pretend I know you're not a fool. I should have known better then to cheat a friend and waste the chance that I've been given. So I'm never gonna dance again, the way I danced with you…"

Arwen groaned. _Careless Whisper, _by George Michael, was not a suitable vocal warm-up, despite what her father thought. Just as her bagel popped up in the toaster, another song began.

"You can dance if you want to, you can leave your friends behind. But your friends don't dance and if they don't dance, well, they're no friends of mine. I say, we can go where we want to. There's a place they'll never find. And we can act like we come from out of this world; leave the real one far behind. We can dance…"

Spreading the cream cheese on her bagel, Arwen mentally tore apart every single person who wrote songs in the 1980's. _Stupid Safety Dance. Stupid singing. Stupid Enjolras. Stupid Musical._

Aragorn walked through the door munching on an apple. He walked over to Arwen and kissed her.

"Good morning."

Arwen just growled.

Despite this, Aragorn continued, "I wonder what we'll be singing today. How come no major members of the Fellowship have been in this thing yet? How come we haven't? Huh?"

Arwen just scowled.

As it was obvious that his wife was not going to respond, Aragorn simply led her by the hand and dragged her out of the door, making a mental note to pick up the singing Elrond on the way.

* * *

Eventually, everyone from Middle Earth dragged themselves out of bed, thinking that since Lovely Ladies was over, everything would get better from there. Hopefully.

Heads turned and eyes rolled as an over-enthusiastic Enjolras hopped up onto the stage.

"Not him again," was the collective thought the audience had.

But, this time, the revolutionary had two other men with him, presumably his friends.

The revolutionary on the left spoke into the microphone, "Hello, I'm Courfeyrac, and this is Combeferre," Combeferre nodded in acknowledgement, "and the little boy in the back is Gavroche."

Gollum looked closely at Courfeyrac. _That nasssssssssty friend of nassssssssssssssty boy also has Precioussss. Red jacketses!_

Enjolras noticed Gollum's hungry gaze and protectively clamped his hand on his jacket, which was in his arms. _My jacketses, Javert/Gollum, my jacketses._

Combeferre, seeing Enjolras' strange look, took over addressing the audience, "For the next week, we will be assistant directors for this delightful musical," here Combeferre had to take a few deep breaths to keep from laughing, "and today, we will be singing the song, 'Fantine's Arrest.'"

"WHAT?" Galadriel stood up, furious, "Why do I get arrested? What did I ever do to you?"

Combeferre looked unfazed, "Absolutely nothing. But you might want to get back at Enjolras. He's still mad at you for switching out his shampoo with hair dye."

Enjolras put a martyred look on his face. Galadriel put an innocent look on her face.

Just then, a gust of wind came in through the open doors and blew the beret off of Enjolras' head.

No one in the room was prepared for what they saw.

Instead of the blond curly hair that Enjolras usually sported, hot pink spirals were nestled atop his head.

At first, the audience was too stunned to do or say anything, but a laugh soon rose up from Box Five.

"Ha! I wish I had thought of that," Erik the Phantom of the Opera laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Combeferre, sensing that chaos was about to occur, called Galadriel up onto the stage.

"Here is your lyrics sheet," Galadriel nodded at this

Here he addressed the audience, "Enjolras, who is now fetching his lost beret… _Gavroche, give it back!... _mentioned Elves as being the customers yesterday, am I right?"

All Elves gulped and nodded in sheer terror.

Combeferre pretended not to notice this and continued, "I need an Elf who hasn't been onstage. A male Elf, if you please."

Elrond pouted. He really wanted to sing, but Arwen was holding him in place. _Stupid daughter_.

There was a chorus of sighs throughout the room as all of the Elves realized that they had already sung. Except for one.

Erestor was not having a good day. First his roommates had used up all of the hot water in the shower, and now this? He had to sing? With a wild look in his eyes, he prepared to make a run for it. Sadly, Lindir on his right recognized the manic gleam that his friend's eyes currently held. Lindir held Erestor's wrist and dragged said unlucky Elf onto stage.

"No, Erestor, everyone else has had their turn. It is only fair that you have to sing, too," Lindir hissed into Erestor's ear.

Erestor just whimpered and trudged up the stage's steps. Onstage, Combeferre walked over to him and handed him the lyrics sheet.

"Erestor, you are Bamatabois, a horrible man who harasses Fantine and stuffs snow down her blouse."

Galadriel looked a bit worried.

Combeferre continued, "Don't actually do that," Galadriel sighed in relief as Combeferre turned towards the audience, "now, Javert and Valjean, come onstage!"

A cheer went up from where Elrond was sitting, "I finally get to sing again!"

Gollum, as sulky as ever, just crawled onto the stage and rudely grabbed the offered lyrics sheet.

Courfeyrac took the microphone from Combeferre and handed it to Enjolras, who had just found his hat.

"Here you are, Enjolras."

"Thank you Courfeyrac. Alright! Everybody to your places!" Enjolras said, popping in the CD and pressing play.

As the music started, Erestor took a deep breath. _Here goes…_

* * *

The music wafted from the speakers.

Erestor started singing, "Here's something new. I think I'll give it a try. Come closer you! I like to see what I buy. The usual price, for just one slice of your pie."

Galadriel dry heaved at an innocent Elf saying this, and continued, "I don't want you, no, no, Monsieur, let me go!" She really did not want Erestor in any way, shape, or form.

Erestor also dry heaved and continued, "Is this a trick? I won't pay more. _Thank Eru."_

"No, not at all."

"You've got some nerve, you little whore. You've got some gall."

Galadriel looked extremely offended and scratched Erestor in the face, regardless of acting.

"I'll kill you, you bastard, try any of that! Even a whore who has gone to the bad won't be had by a rat!"

Erestor whimpered and ran to the other side of the stage, "By Christ you'll pay for what you've done. This rat will make you bleed, you'll see! I guarantee, I'll make you suffer for this disturbance of the peace; for this insult to life and property!"

Galadriel smirked, completely out of character, at the effect she was having on the Imladris minstrel, "I beg you, don't report me, sir. I'll do whatever you may want."

Throwing a pleading look at Combeferre, who shook his head, Erestor still sang, "Make your excuse to the police!"

Gollum crept up to the microphone, thus making everyone back away from him.

"Tell us quickly what's the story. Who saws what and whys and where? Let him give a full description, let him answer to Javert! In this nessssst of whorses and vipers, let one speak who saw it all. Who laid hands on this nassssssssssty Elveses here? What's the substance of this brawl?"

Erestor inched away from Gollum, "Javert, would you believe it? I was crossing from the park, when this prostitute attacked me. You can see she left her mark." Erestsor pointed to his cheek, which bore three angry scratches, courtesy of Galadriel.

Gollum just hissed at the Nasssssssssssssssty Elveses and continued singing, "She will answer for her actions when you make a full report, you may rest assured, nassssssty Elf, that she will answer to the court."

Galadriel glared at the wretched creature prancing at her feet and sang, "There's a child who sorely needs me, please Monsieur, she's but that high. Holy God, is there no mercy? If I go to jail she'll die!"

Gollum just sneered back at the Lady of the Galadhrim, "We have heard such protestations, ever day for twenty years. Let's have no more explanations. Save your breath and save your tears. Honest work, just reward, that's the way to please the Lord."

Giddily, Elrond waltzed onto stage, happy to sing once again, "A moment of you time, Javert, I do believe this woman's tale."

"But nasssssssty Elf lord."

Elrond glared at Gollum, who grinned, "You've done your duty, let her be, she needs a doctor. Not a jail."

"But nassssssssssssssty Elf lord!" Gollum's voice took on a warning tone.

Galadriel, sensing Gollum would attack someone if the singing didn't continue, sang again, "Can this be?"

Elrond glanced at his mother-in-law, but then back at Gollum, who has gnawing the microphone's stand, "Where will she end – this child without a friend?" now Elrond looked back at Galadriel, who was scowling at him. Blasted in-laws, "I've seen your face before. Show me some way to help you. How have you come to grief in such a place as this?"

Galadriel's scowl at her son-in-law grew deeper, "Son-in-law, don't mock me now, I pray. You took my daughter as your bride. Orcs attacked, and now she's away. In Valinor; the other side. Across the deep blue sea."

Elrond gulped. Mother-in-laws were truly terrifying, "Is it true what I've done?"

The two were all set to keep sparring verbally, but Courfeyrac hit the pause button on the CD player and spoke, "Now, Galadriel, while all that might be true, please keep to the lyrics as they were written."

Galadriel grumbled, and Combeferre thought he heard a "fine" come from her mouth.

Courfeyrac, placated by this, rewound the music.

"Monsieur, don't mock me now, I pray. It's hard enough I've lost my pride. You let your foreman send me away. Yes! You were there, and turned aside. I never did no wrong."

"Is it true what I've done?"

"My daughter's close to dying."

"To an innocent soul?"

"If there's a God above…"

"Had I only known then…"

"He'd let me die instead."

"In His name, my task has just be done!"

Gollum sidled up to Elrond, who scooted away in record time, "But nasssssssssssty Elveses!"

"I will see it done."

"But nassssssssssty Elveses!"

"I will see it done!"

The music ended, and there was a polite amount of applause from the audience.

* * *

Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac gathered at the entrance to the theatre. They were waiting for Gavroche, who was over by the Opera's candy store, waiting for someone to take pity on him and buy him some candy.

"So," Enjolras said, clapping his hands together, "how did you two enjoy directing?"

Courfeyrac shrugged, "It's okay."

This earned him a smack in the forearm from Combeferre, who amended, "It was a new experience for all of us."

Enjolras nodded, "So, I think I need a day off tomorrow. Who wants to direct tomorrow by themselves?" Silence, "Any takers? Any at all?"

Combeferre finally raised his hand, "Might as well do it sooner than later. Courfeyrac's next, right?"

"What?" Courfeyrac yelped.

"Uh huh!" Enjolras looked far too happy at Courfeyrac's fate. And probably Combeferre's. Way too happy.

"So, Enjolras, what song am I doing tomorrow?" Combeferre inquired.

"'Who Am I' with Elrond, the insane Elf who really likes to sing."

"Joy."

"At least he'll finally have the solo he's been so anxious to get."

"What about Valjean's Soliloquy?"

"Oh yeah."

When Gavroche finally caught up to the three Amis, the group of friends walked down the street to the Musain.

* * *

Backstage, Galadriel handed Pippin a two-Euro coin.

"Thanks for the hair dye."

"Pleasure doing business with you, my lady," Pippin said, nodding, and walked out of the theatre.

* * *

**My longest chapter yet! So sorry about the late update! I hope you guys like this one. It took me a while to write it. If you have any suggestions or constructive criticism, feel free to review or PM me. Please review? As an early birthday present to me? I'll update this story again tomorrow, along with publishing my new story under the Les Mis section, titled, "Enjolras Discovers Fanfiction." Hope you'll read that one when I post it! Young Cosette's coming up! And she ain't a Hobbit, Gollum, Boromir, or Erik the Phantom of the Opera. Ciao!**


	9. Paper Plates and Raspberries

**Thank you to those who reviewed and wished me a happy birthday. It was… different. I helped lift bags of backpacks and crates of school supplies onto shelves at a local charity. Fun. And my grandmother got me a Phantom of the Opera Shirt from Broadway. Now I get to try out my dismal French at a posh French Restaurant. This will be shorter than most, or will be the shortest chapter yet. It's filler. Please, if you have a chance, read my new story once I post it later tonight or early tomorrow.**

**Disclaimer: I only own merchandise. Rick Astley owns the song a few lines down.**

* * *

Combeferre was not having a good morning. In his new apartment inside of the Opera house, the coffee machine decided to die, and he needed caffeine. He really needed caffeine. And then when he was trying to fix the coffee maker, Courfeyrac came stumbling in, still half asleep, and stepped on Combeferre's glasses.

"Thanks, Courfeyrac. Now I'm blind and sleep-deprived."

Courfeyrac just smiled at his cranky friend, "No problem. Any time."

Combeferre growled. _Stupid friends. The only thing that would be worse is if one of those strange pointy-eared people who like to sing came barging in._

As if by coincidence, Elrond burst through the door.

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna make you," here Elrond looked at the slightly scared Combeferre and Courfeyrac, "heh, whoops, wrong room. I'll just be leaving now."

And so the Lord of Imladris dashed out of the room as if being pursued by a rabid Gollum.

"Interesting fellow," Courfeyrac commented.

Combeferre just stared wide-eyed out the door. He had to direct those people today.

* * *

Inside the Opera Populaire's theatre, Erik the Phantom was preparing the set for the day. A runaway cart.

A manic gleam found its way into his eyes. _Perfect_.

Taking a hammer and an over-sized mallet, Erik swung down from the scaffoldings and started to beat up a cart he had found on the street. It was abandoned and everything! _Now_, he thought, _it must look used and dirty and a bit broken._ After one final hammering, he stood. Finished.

The doors to the theatre opened, and a man in a cab-driver's outfit walked in, with a murderous expression on his face.

Erik the Phantom lost his cold façade and gulped.

_Oh no._

* * *

Courfeyrac and Combeferre chose this exact moment to walk into the theatre, only to see a very angry cabbie punch and break Erik's white, porcelain mask.

Three pairs of eyes opened wide in shock. Three mouths let out a simultaneous scream.

But Combeferre soon snapped out of his horrified reverie and walked up to the Phantom.

"Are you alright? Is the set finished?"

Erik just nodded and glared with as much hatred as he could muster at the scared cabbie, who, at this moment, decided that he should leave.

Courfeyrac, who had dashed over to the Opera Populaire's cafeteria, walked back holding a paper plate with two eyeholes and the jaw cut away.

"This should work as a mask. That man, what was his name, Eru, told me he broke your last one."

Combeferre gave his friend a grateful yet confused look and helped Erik to tie on the paper plate mask.

"There, good as it could ever be."

Despite Courfeyrac's helpful attempts, he still received a threatening look from the Phantom.

_Must change subject. The musical._

So he spoke, "Well, Combeferre, mon ami, let's direct this show."

Combeferre rolled his eyes, "It's my turn today; yours is tomorrow."

"Oh yeah."

* * *

An hour later, the theatre was all filled with the Peoples of Middle Earth, and Combeferre was ready to direct.

"Hello everyone, I am Combeferre. Today we are doing the song, 'The Runaway Cart.' We need an ensemble. How about," his finger pointed to Box 3, "you people?"

The men and women of Harad looked stunned, "Us"

"Yes Please come onstage and sing when I tell you to. Valjean…"

A shout of sheer joy went up from where Elrond was.

"…please come onstage. Also, I need Javert. Come on."

Gollum came creeping onstage.

"Nasssssssssty friendses of boy with the Precious. They can't tell us what to do."

Combeferre got on his knees to be at eye level with Gollum, "You will sing."

Gollum just sneered and blew a raspberry at Combeferre, who began to look a little freaked out.

"Alright! Everyone, cue music!"

* * *

The various peoples of Harad were first.

"Look at that, look at that! It's Monsieur Fauchelevant!"

The music stopped all of a sudden. Combeferre ran over to the microphone, "I forgot a Fauchelevant. You," he pointed to Barliman Butterbur, "please come onstage."

The innkeeper did just that, and the music soon resumed.

"Don't approach! Don't go near! At the risk of your life, he is caught by the wheel! Oh, the pitiful man! Stay away, turn away! There is nothing to do, there is nothing to do!"

Elrond skipped onstage, happy to be singing again, "Is there anyone here who will rescue this man? Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart."

Crickets.

And then the mournful chorus of the Haradrim started back up, "Don't go near him, Mr. Mayor. The load is heavy as hell. The old man's a goner for sure. It'll kill you as well."

Now Barliman Butterbur sang, "Monsieur le Mayor, I have no workds. You come from God, you are a saint."

Gollum pranced up to Elrond, who scooched away with lightning speed, "Can this be true? I don't believe what I see! A man your age to be as strong as you are! A memory stirs… you make me think of a man from years ago. A man who broke his parole. He disappeared. Forgive me Sir! I would not dare."

Elrond cringed, "Say what you must, don't leave it there…"

Gollum hissed back, "I have only known one other who can do what you have done. He's a convict from the chain gang, he's been ten years on the run. But he couldn't run forever, we have found his hideaway, and we have found his hideaway and he's just been re-arrested and he comes to court today. Well, of course he now denies it, you'd expect that of a con. But he couldn't run forever- no! – not even Jean Valjean!"

Elrond faked a gasp, "You say this man denies it all and gives no sign of understanding or repentance? You say this man is going to trial and that he's sure to be returned to serve his sentence? Come to that, can you be sure that I am not your man?"

"I have known the thief for ages, tracked him down through thick and thin. And to make the matter certain, there's a brand upon his skin. He will bend; he will break. This time there is no mistake."

* * *

Gollum ran off the stage.

Elrond just turned to Combeferre, "Well that was short."

Combeferre waved this off and nodded, "You have a solo tomorrow."

"Whoo!"

Elrond happily ran back to his rooms to celebrate while Combeferre held his head in his hands.

"It's over, Courfeyrac. Your turn next."

"Damn it."

* * *

**Sorry it's so short. I'll have the next one up later tonight, probably. Ciao!**


	10. Baristas and Barricade Boys

**Hello everybody. I'm posting tonight, and then tomorrow, I'm going on a road trip with my family for six days. I'll be back on the 16th. I'll probably post then. Sorry about the short chapter. I proved my theory right. The less people sing, the shorter the chapter will be. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I really should pack.**

**For those who want to know: I'll update Enjolras Discovers Fanfiction when I get back, so either next Friday or Saturday. Sorry for the long waits lately. I just finished my volunteer work.**

**Disclaimer: I own framed pictures of LotR and Les Mis characters, but not the books/movies/musicals themselves. I also don't own anything I might reference, like songs. Sorry if there are errors in the song below. I don't speak German.**

* * *

When Elrond woke up that one fine morning, the first coherent thought that raced through his head was, "I have a solo today!" So, for the rest of the morning, Elrond went hopping and skipping around his apartment humming random one hit wonders from the 1980's. As he started the second verse of 99 Luftballons, Arwen walked in through the door.

"Neunduneunzig Luftballons auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont heilt man für Ufos aus dem All, darum shickte ein General… Oh! Good morning, Daughter!"

As quickly as she came in, Arwen backed out of her father's apartment in search of a more sane place to eat breakfast.

Still talking/singing to himself, Elrond said/sang, "'ne Gliegerstaffel hinterher alarm zu geben, wenn es so wär… eh… it's her loss… dabei war'n da am Horizont nur neunduneunzig Luftballons!"

As he sang, Elrond threw on his Lord of Imladris clothes and breezed through the door, eager to sing his long-awaited solo.

* * *

When Courfeyrac woke up that one fine morning, the first coherent thought that raced through his head was, "Oh damn. I have to direct that robed nutcase in his solo today. Joy of joys." So, for the rest of the morning, Courfeyrac had an inner debate with himself about whether he should go down the stairs and into the Opera Populaire's theatre. Eventually, he ended up calling Enjolras on his cell phone. Their conversation went a little like this:

"Hello, this is Courfeyrac."

"Courfeyrac, why are you calling me?"

"What do you mean, Enjolras?"

"I live in the apartment next door. I can hear you talking into the phone right now through the walls."

"Oh," here Courfeyrac paused, "how are you enjoying your days off?"

"They're fine," Enjolras replied, "I'm not doing much, except for keeping the Amis in order and rallying the people."

"Hey, Enjolras?"

"Yes?"

"How do I direct that nutcase that's supposed to sing today?"

"Lord Elrond?"

"Yeah, him."

Enjolras thought hard about this for a few seconds, and then told Courfeyrac his tricks of his trade, "Just paste a smile on your face at all times, constantly compliment them, and pretend they are completely normal."

"Thanks!"

"Hope this helps. Feel free to actually walk two feet to my apartment anytime you would like."

"Yeah, bye, don't want to keep the nutcase waiting," with this, Courfeyrac hung up the phone, grabbed his coat, and ran downstairs into the auditorium.

* * *

Down in the theatre, Courfeyrac addressed the audience in the microphone, "Hello all. Today, Elrond has his solo. That is all. Please come onstage, Lord Elrond."

Fidgeting from his excitement, Elrond tried to keep his calm as he dashed onto stage and stood in front of the microphone, "I'm ready."

Courfeyrac nodded and pressed the play button, "Let's get this over with."

The music started, and Elrond had to bite his knuckles to bottle up his insane enthusiasm towards his solo.

"He thinks that man is me; he knew him at a glance. That stranger he has found, this man could be my chance! Why should I save his hide? Why should I right this wrong when I have come so far and struggled for so long?"

Elrond let out a slight giggle after singing, earning him weird looks from those in the theatre, even the Nazgûl, who don't even have faces.

"If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned! I am the master of hundreds of workers; they all look to me. How can I abandon them? How would they live If I am not free? If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned!"

Courfeyrac smiled to himself. This was easy. So, why then, were Enjolras and that other man, Eru was his name, always complaining?

"Who am I? Can I condemn this man to slavery; pretend I do not feel his agony? This innocent who bears my face who goes to judgment in my place. Who am I? Can I conceal myself forever more? Pretend I'm not the man I was before? And must my name until I die be no more than an alibi? Must I lie? How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again? My soul belongs to God, I know. I made that bargain long ago. He gave me hope when hope was gone, he gave me strength to journey on. Who am I? Who am I?"

Here Elrond whispered to himself with a smile, "I'm Jean Valjean!"

Walking over to Gollum in the back row, he sang, "And so Javert, you see it's true. That man bears no more guilt than you! Who am I?"

Elrond ripped open the front of his robes. After the initial shock wore off, Courfeyrac opened his eyes. Penned onto the Lord of Imladris' chest in red marker were the numbers,

"Two-four-six-oh-ONE!"

Well, we all know Elrond did his research. He decided to stay true to the musical, and he held that long, high note.

* * *

After his solo was over, Elrond went out to the local café and ordered himself a celebratory café au lait. While he waited at the counter for the barista to finish, a man wearing a familiar red jacket walked over to the barista behind the counter.

"Hey, miss! How would you like to join in our revolution?"

Said barista looked scared and went back to preparing Elrond's coffee. Enjolras turned around, only to see Elrond invading his personal space bubble.

"Hello, Elrond. How was your solo?"

Elrond just slapped a terrifying grin on his face and turned to the counter, where his coffee had just been placed.

"It was fine. I want another one."

Enjolras gave a little nervous laugh and went back to the table the Amis were sitting at.

"That's…just delightful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have stuff to do."

Elrond nodded and started to sip at his coffee happily, not even caring if he burnt his tongue multiple times.

* * *

**I'll update soon. Feedback welcome. Please review**


	11. Galadriel and Elrond Have a Talk

**Hello everyone. So sorry for the late update. School starts on Monday, and I've been running around like crazy. So that is why I am updating today, tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday, before school starts. During the year, I won't have that much time to update, what with five advanced classes and drama afterwards every day. But I'll still stick to the whole "update at least once a week" schedule, probably on Saturday.**

**For those who have been waiting for an update on "Enjolras Discovers Fanfiction," I have writers block at how to start the story off without them getting too out of character. But I'll update it by Sunday at the latest.**

**Disclaimer: I own the Les Mis soundtrack in Polish, which I do not speak, but I do not own Les Misérables or the Lord of the Rings. You have Victor Hugo and J.R.R. Tolkien to thank for that.**

**On with the story!**

**oOo**

Enjolras was finally in a semi-decent mood that morning; Bahorel had finally helped him to fix that stubborn coffee machine. Now, he was hyped up on caffeine, or at least, however hyped up a stoic Revolutionary like Enjolras could get, and ready to return to the Opera Populaire. The only thing that had almost kept him from going back was the fact that his hair was no longer that blindingly fluorescent pink. It was now a delightful shade of salmon, as Jean Prouvaire phrased it. But it also looked like "a unicorn threw up on him." Gavroche's words exactly. Enjolras sighed to himself. _When will it just go back to its old shade of blond?_ he asked himself every time he looked in the morning. Finally, he sucked up his courage and walked over to the Opera house.

On his way down the street, Enjolras ran into Eru, who had been out for the past week or so. Enjolras greeted the creator of Arda with a clap on the back and a grin.

"Well, Eru, how've you been?"

"Fine, my dear Revolutionary. Love the hair color."

Enjolras had forgotten for a moment about that.

"Lady Galadriel can hold a grudge. That young, short man, what are they called?"

"Hobbits?" Eru supplied.

"Yes, a hobbit. One of the younger hobbits sold some blindingly pink hair dye to her. What was that little imbecile's name?" Enjolras racked his brain for that one name that was on the tip of his tongue, "It started with a P. Pop..no…pah…no…pip… Yes, that sounds right. Pip-something."

"Pippin?"

"Most likely. Just for that insolence, I might make him one of the Cosettes, either younger or older."

"No, Enjolras. Remember who we picked out for Young Cosette. She's already on in two songs after today. And Cosette is completely out of the question. She's a great girl, once you get to know her."

"I know, Eru. It's just that whenever I hear someone say her name, horrible memories of Marius Pontmercy come to mind. Did you know he stalked her for several months?"

"Really?" a comical expression appeared on Eru's face as he tried to picture Marius as a stalker. He just couldn't see it. But it was best to humor Enjolras. It always was.

"And to think I made him an honorary member of Les Amis de l'A B C. Wasted talent, I tell you," Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose as the two conspirators/directors of the musical, minus Courfeyrac and Combeferre, walked down the street to the Opera Populaire.

**oOo**

Inside the theatre, Courfeyrac was the first to spot Enjolras. Or, more precisely, Enjolras' hair. Now, you could never lose him in a crowd! Gavroche was another story.

Enjolras walked over to Courfeyrac and Combeferre. The latter was looking a bit worse for the wear.

"So, how was directing?"

"Fantastic!"

While, at the same time, Combeferre muttered,

"Horrible."

For some odd reason, Enjolras could not understand why, Combeferre didn't like directing the crazies from the parallel dimension. Please note the sarcasm.

"Well," Enjolras encouraged to his slightly annoyed friend, "how about this: Courfeyrac and I direct today, you and I direct tomorrow, and then I'll direct for the rest of the time with you two just there in the theatre for moral support?"

This seemed to placate Courfeyrac, who let out a huge sigh of relief. _What a narrow escape that was. Poor Enjolras, having to direct them for the rest of the show._

Little did he know, Enjolras was actually enjoying himself. Even to the point of excess and at the expense of others.

At that moment, Enjolras was so happy, he skipped onto stage and spoke into the microphone, which he had just turned on.

"Hello, various Peoples of Middle Earth! I'm back and ready to continue on this production!"

His joyful speech was interrupted when the auditorium was pierced by a wail and a dead fish was gracefully chucked onto stage.

Enjolras sighed and addressed the back right corner of the theatre.

"Gollum, those fish are for eating. In theatres, you throw rotten vegetables. Now, please come up here and retrieve the fish."

Gollum, being too lazy/spacey/just not feeling like it, sidled up to Elrond, who looked a bit terrified. Just a bit.

"We wants it to retrieve the fish. Oh yes, Precious, make Nasssty Elveses retrieve the fishes," Gollum hissed, "Retrieve the fishes. Bring it to us."

Elrond only gulped and slid down in his seat, trying to hide in plain sight. A few rows over, Éomer stood up indignantly, about to start yelling. Only he was supposed to hide in plain sight! Only him! Lothíriel, too, maybe. Said wife gave him a half exasperated, half furious glare, as if to say, "Éomer, if you don't sit down right now, I'll invite all of the in-laws to stay over." This made him sit down quickly, albeit, his brows were furrowed and he was muttering under his breath.

Back onstage, Enjolras put on his best daycare instructor façade and death-glared at Gollum, who had the good graces to gulp, and spoke.

"Gollum, please get this fish now, or I will throw it away, and you will have to sit in Box Five."

Gollum's head swiveled to Box Five, only to see the Stupid Fat Hobbit, Massssster/Stupid Tricksy Hobbit, two other Stupid Hobbitses, and a creepy man with only half a face. Mumbling to himself, Gollum pranced onto stage, grabbed the fish, blew a raspberry at a shocked Combeferre, and ran out of the theatre and down the street.

Courfeyrac had a grin pasted on his face, "Well, at least he's not in the song today. Who knows how many more innocent fish would get harmed."

He shut up, though, at Combeferre's glare. Still, he continued, "But we know who is…"

With twin/triplet Chesire cat grins, the three Revolutionaries' gazes centered on Galadriel, who tried to hide. Éomer stood up again, only to have Lothíriel prop her feet up on his lap so he couldn't move. _Why did I marry this child? _Lothíriel mused, _how did he ever survive the Ring War acting like this?_

Courfeyrac surveyed the audience. It was high time to start the show, before any more distractions made themselves known, so, he walked over to the microphone and spoke,

"Hello all. Song will be starting now. Elrond, Galadriel, come onstage. Here are your lyric sheets."

Elrond and Galadriel looked down at those sheets of paper, each with their own reactions.

Galadriel looked down at the sheet in disgust. She did not want to sing. Even if it was her last day in the show. Enjolras had failed to inform her about the Finale. It just didn't seem relevant at the time.

Elrond, however, was jumping for joy. He got to sing again! Eagerly, he waited for the music to start.

**oOo**

The music wafted from the CD player as Galadriel began singing.

"Cosette, it's turned so cold. Cosette, it's past your bedtime. You've played the day away, and soon it will be night. Come to me, Cosette, the light is fading. Don't you see the evening star appearing? Come to me, and rest against my shoulder. How fast the minutes fly away and every minute colder. Hurry near! Another day is dying. Don't you hear, the winter wind is crying? There's a darkness which comes without a warning. But I will sing you lullabies and wake you in the morning."

Elrond tried to somber up, but his gleeful grin from waiting to sing showed no signs of fading. _This is your mother-in-law's death. Be sad. _This just made him grin wider.

"Oh, Fantine, our time is running out. But Fantine, I swear this on my life."

Galadriel reached out to where she thought the general direction of Valinor was.

"Look, Monsieur, where all the children play!"

"Be at peace, be at peace evermore."

"My," Galadriel looked once again to Valinor, "Celebrían."

"Shall live in my protection," Elrond gulped at this. _Whoops_.

"Take her now." _Um…_

"Your child will want for nothing."

"Dear Elrond, she got attacked by some Orcs!" _Damn. Angry in-laws._

"And none will ever harm her now; we'll cross the sea to see her." Hope that works. Please calm down Galadriel.

"I forgive you, for you, too, love my daughter."

"Thank Eru for that."

"Take my child, I give her to your keeping."

"Take shelter from the storm."

"For Eru's sake, please stay till I am sleeping, and tell Cosette I love her, and I'll see her when I wake…"

Galadriel walked offstage and "died," while the rest of the audience tried to understand what had just been sung. Apparently Galadriel and Elrond are capable of singing musical numbers and solving their differences at the same time.

The curtain closed to scattered applause.

**oOo**

Backstage in one of the dressing rooms, Galadriel was sobbing. Halfway through the song, she realized something. A very important something: she wouldn't sing again in this musical. And she found she would miss that.

The door to the dressing room swung open and a voice spoke.

"Galadriel? Are you feeling alright?"

A very concerned looking Elrond was holding a box of tissues.

"Are you upset that you won't sing for the rest of the show?"

Galadriel gave a watery nod.

"I know. Singing is fun. When we get to Valinor, the family can open up a Broadway-esque theatre, and we can put on all sorts of shows!"

Galadriel's sniffling stopped.

"And you can sing one hit wonders from the eighties in the mornings. I know it annoys everyone. Keeps them from invading my personal space."

Galadriel looked up and finally spoke.

"Why isn't Celeborn here?"

A knock sounded from the threshold. Standing in the doorway was Celeborn with a small machine and a microphone, plus a collection of CDs.

"Karaoke night?"

Galadriel was the first to race out of the room and to the nearest outlet in her apartment.

**oOo**

"Oh Mickey what a pity you don't understand. You take me by the heart when you take me by the hand. Oh Mickey, you're so pretty, can't you understand? It's guys like you, Mickey!"

Galadriel sang to her heart's content at the Elves Only With the Exception of Gavroche Who Was Serving Snacks Karaoke Party.

To the dismay of the other people on her floor.

**oOo**

Outside the Opera Populaire, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Enjolras looked back to the theatre.

Combeferre sighed, "I guess Lady Galadriel is just like Elrond now."

Courfeyrac laughed, "I pity her husband. Must be hard to be the only sane one."

Enjolras gave Courfeyrac a bemused look, "You know nothing of sanity, my dear Courfeyrac."

"Says the man with pink hair."

"Jehan called it 'salmon!'"

"Still pink."

"Salmon."

"Pink."

"Salmon. It sounds more manly."

"I know. That's why I think it's pink."

Combeferre just sighed and walked past his two squabbling friends and back to his sanctuary of an apartment. He needed the peace. It was his turn to direct next.

**oOo**

**Hello all! Don't kill me for the late update. I swear I'll update Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, also.**

**To those readers who don't review, you know who you are, I want to know what you guys think. I need the suggestions, ideas, and criticisms. Only praise will not make this story better. It just inflates my ego, and we don't want that. So, please review, no matter how short the review might be.**

**Ciao!**


	12. Gollum's Disco Dance Party

**Hello everyone! Sorry for this late update. So much for swearing to update… I kind of stepped on my computer and cracked the screen. :) Anyways, I GET TO DO A THING ON JANE AUSTEN AT SCHOOL! Whoo! I love Jane Austen's novels. And I get to come back onstage in the Scottish Play (I'm King Duncan) at the end as a ghostie! Okay… Sorry for the late update… School is hell. But I'm getting through it. In this chapter, Young Cosette will be revealed… Mwah ha ha ha!**

**I'm not entirely happen with this chapter, but, whatever… :)**

**Disclaimer: *manic laughter* I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! *manic laughter continues***

**oOo**

When Gollum woke up that morning, he knew something was going to happen. Something bad. And for once it wouldn't be a nassssty Elveses' fault.

"I love rock'n'roll. Put another dime in the jukebox baby. I love rock'n'roll. So come on take your time and dance with me…"

Gollum heard an overly joyful Elrond outside of his door. _Stupid nasssty Elveses. Singing horrid songs. _Gollum did not like 80's music. He was more of a 60's and 70's fan. Moving on… So Gollum clapped two hands over his ears and slid down the stairs banister into the main lobby of the Opera house, where Eru and Enjolras and his friends were waiting. And Elrond. He was there, too.

The Lord of Imladris walked up to a surprised Gollum, "hello, erm, nasty-creature-who-used-to-be-a-hobbit-but-then-go t-corrupted-by-the-One-Ring-and-betrayed-Frodo-onl y-to-bite-his-finger-off-and-then-be-thrown-into-M ount-Doom!"

Gollum did not know how to respond to this, but he didn't have to. Elrond just kept blathering on.

"Do I have a wonderful idea for you…" Elrond drew something out of the duffel bag lying at his feet. Something scaly. Something shiny. Gollum was entranced.

"Fish…"

Elrond looked slightly worried, but not overly put-out.

"No Gollum, this is a disco ball. Not a fish."

"What is this 'disco,' Precious? What is this 'disco?'"

Elrond was happy to tell Gollum, and the two proceeded to talk for a _very _long time about it, until they received a nudge from Combeferre, "Lord Elrond, Gollum, please enter the theatre."

**oOo**

That morning, Enjolras was in a fairly decent mood. Grantaire had finally given him a cup of coffee that morning with some actual coffee in it. And, said drunkard had not been at the Musain the previous evening rambling. His day was going fairly well. Now, if only these people would cooperate for once…

Sighing, he pushed open the doors and let the Peoples of Middle Earth into the theatre.

**oOo**

Onstage, Combeferre was the one to walk up to the microphone. Apparently, Enjolras had gotten tired of repeating the same thing every morning and had manipulated one of his friends to do it.

"Hello all. Today we are doing the song 'the Confrontation.' That is where Javert finally catches up to Valjean and throws him back in the galleys in Toulon. Except," here Combeferre paused, thinking, "in the musical, Valjean escapes, not sullying his name any further. And then he goes to Montfermeil to stalk, erm, _find _Cosette and talk her home."

Elrond clapped his hands in a self-smug standing ovation. He got to sing again _and _adopt a new kid, while fighting off the "evil-according-to-Elrond-who-doesn't-know" Javert. Life was good.

This earned him a strange look from Aragorn, who was sitting a few seats down, next to Arwen.

Back onstage, Combeferre cleared his throat, "Erm, Lord Elrond, Gollum, please come onstage and receive your lyrics sheets."

Said person and slimy creature obliged, going to their own respective microphones. From the wings, Enjolras pressed the play button on the CD player. _That seemed to be his only job nowadays…_

The music started…

**oOo**

Elrond looked at the slip of paper he held in his hands. Damn, he's not the first to sing.

Gollum sidled up to Elrond, singing, "Elrond, at lassst, we sees each other plain. Nassssssty Elf lord, you'll wear a different chain.

Here the Lord of Imladris looked a bit terrified as Gollum started moving closer. _Ten feet… five feet… ten inches… oh Eru. _But he still sang.

"Before you say another word, Javert, before you chain me up like a slave again, listen to me! There is something I must do. This woman leaves behind a suffering child."

The music stopped as Enjolras dragged a fuming Galadriel onstage. Apparently, even though she had died already, Valjean was watching her corpse lie on the bed. Creepy.

Combeferre had the good graces to look sheepish, as he started the music again.

"There is none but me who can intercede, in Mercy's name, there days are all I need. Then I'll return, I pledge my word. Then I'll return…"

Gollum sneered at the "dead" Fantine/Galadriel.

"You must think us mad," yes, Gollum, yes we do, "We've hunted you across the years. Elveses like you can never change. An Elveses such as you."

Both started singing at the same time.

Elrond sang, "Believe of me what you will. There is a duty that I'm sworn to do. You know nothing of my life. All I did was steal some bread. You know nothing of the world. You would sooner see me dead, but not before I see this justice done. I am warning you Javert! I'm a stronger man by far. There is power in me yet. My race is not yet run."

Meanwhile, Gollum sang/croaked, "Men like us can never change. Men like you can never change. No. Two-four-sixes-oh-one! Our duty's to the law – you have no rights. Come with us, two-four-sixes-oh-one. Now the wheel has turned around; Jean Valjean is nothing now. Dare you talk to me of crime? And the price you have to pay? Every man is born in sin; every man must choose his way."

"I am warning you Javert! There is nothing I won't dare. If I have to kill you here, I'll do what must be done!" a wounded-looking Elrond clutched his heart. Gollum just ignored him.

"You know nothing of Javert. We were born inside a jail. We were born with scum like you. We are from the gutter, too!" spittle flew across the stage, to the chagrin of Elrond, whose foot was right near its landing spot.

With a dramatic flourish, Gollum pranced off the stage. Or rather, he was about to, when Elrond grabbed his arm.

"Remember the announcement we have to make?"

Gollum nodded. _Oh yes, Precious, we remembers. _

Everyone stared at him wide-eyed.

_Did we just say that out loud?_

"Yes," Elrond replied.

This only garnered a sneer from Gollum, who was now approaching the microphone.

"We would like to invites you all, stupid fat Hobbitses, too, to a disco dance party later tonight."

Crickets. But Gollum was not the least bit perturbed by this.

"Yes, we are calling it: 'Gollum's Disco Dance Party.' Please do not bring any fishes."

"Disco balls, he means," added Elrond from stage right.

Gollum continued, "We hopes you can come!"

With manic laughter, he danced off of the stage. The audience had not yet blinked, still trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened.

An excited shout went up from box five.

"We should go, Merry!" an exuberant Pippin yelled.

Merry shrugged. How bad could it be?

**oOo**

Later that night, Boromir, Erik the Phantom, Pippin, Merry, Frodo, and Sam all dressed up in their finest shiny pants and snazzy shoes, ready to dance the night away. When they arrived in the disco dance room that the Opera Populaire, they were stunned by what they saw.

Gollum was dancing on the stage. In an afro. With Enjolras, who was wearing bell bottoms and items that were supposed to have been put away in storage long ago.

The scene got a whole lot weirder when Enjolras started singing along while dancing.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive. Stayin' alive. Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive!"

Very slowly, Boromir, Erik the Phantom, Pippin, Merry, Frodo, and Sam backed out of the room in horror and ran away as fast as humanly possible to the nearest pharmacy that carried memory loss pills.

Pippin looked the most scarred.

"What. Just. Happened."

Merry gave him a spaced-out look, almost as if he had been permanently traumatized. Well, he probably was.

"I don't know, Pip. I really don't know."

**oOo**

The next day, in the theatre, Enjolras and Eru were looking for someone. A very specific someone. A someone who would soon be playing Young Cosette. When that poor unfortunate soul passed by, Enjolras grabbed them by the arm.

"Come with us. You'll be singing today.

**oOo**

When all the Peoples of Middle Earth sat down in theatre, the lights had already been dimmed and the music started playing.

Lothíriel remarked to her husband, "Strange, I feel a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something is going to happen."

Éomer gave her a similarly terrified look, "Good. It's not just me."

The singer came onstage. All eyes in the theatre grew to the size of dinner plates.

"There is a castle on a cloud. I like to go there in my sleep. Aren't any floors for me to sweep. Not in my castle on a cloud," Young Cosette sang.

It was Legolas.

**oOo**

**Mwah ha ha ha! Betcha didn't see that one coming! And if you did, whatever. Hope this satisfied you guys. Tell me what you think? How's my casting? Please leave a review, or I'll sic Disco Gollum on you. Just kidding. Maybe… Ciao!**


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